Real And Alive
by Veronica Lacroix
Summary: When Buffy's hopes and fantasies are handed to her, she takes them without a second thought. But when reality comes crashing down on her, she begins to understand the price for her dreams. Please review!
1. The Fairytale Contract

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they are solely the property of Joss Whedon. I'm just borrowing them for the time being, ok? Be easy, this is my first Buffy fic.

Author's Note: The timeset for this chapter is placed in the Buffy/Angel crossover where they have said they're meeting each other. In neither show they say exactly what happened so I thought it was the perfect time to begin a story. Be wary, the next sentence may be a SPOILER. In the way of the entire story, at the end it will seem as if none of the previous events happened, so I am not changing much of Whedon's plot. (Maybe a little, but not much) So don't shoot me!

* * *

I was sitting on a bench outside of a dimly lit bar, somewhere out in the desert. It was late in the night; and the moon shined so brightly you could see into the desert and the mountains behind it. I waited. I _needed_ to see him, perhaps more than he needed to see me. Once, on the ride down, I thought I was making a mistake. That I could be strong all on my own if I turned around and went back. But that wasn't true, I knew that. If I went back, it would take everything I had to keep going. I couldn't risk being weak, not now. So I waited.

A few minutes later, a black convertible pulled up and I watched, hoping it was finally him. A tall, dark figure stepped and walked in my direction. I stood up, my stomach in knots. The figure stepped into the light and I felt relieved immediately. He was really here.

"Buffy," he said, crossing over to me. He wrapped his arms around me in an embrace, and I pressed my cheek to his chest. I missed this comfort so much, the special kind that only he could give me.

"Angel," I answered. "I can't believe you're really here."

He chuckled and I moved to look up at him. "I can't believe you're really here either. Not every day someone comes back from the dead."

I smiled and took a step back, even though it felt like I never wanted to leave his arms again. He smiled back and somehow I knew. Everything was going to be okay...at least, for a little while.

"Let's get a drink, all right?" He offered, holding the bar door open for me. I walked through, my senses assaulted by the smell of liquor, the heavy cloud of smoke and distant chatter. Angel came up behind me, putting his hand on the small of the back and leading me to the bar.

"What can I do for you folks?" The bartender asked, wiping off the counter as he spoke. I looked at Angel for a moment then ordered a beer. Angel asked for a whiskey. I felt apprehensive as we waited for our drinks. I always felt like that nowadays; anxiety welling up before the next blow. With Angel, I could never be sure what the next blow would be.

After getting our drinks, we sat in a secluded booth away from the smoke and many of the customers. I wrapped my fingers around my beer but failed to even take a sip. He noticed and put his hand on top of mine. I looked at him and his eyes full of worry.

"What's wrong, Buffy? You've barely said two words since we got here." I sighed.

"I've had a lot on my mind lately," I answered and he nodded.

"And I'm guessing it's more than just the usual Slayer stuff?"

"Yes, and no..." I furrowed my brows, trying to think of a way to explain it to him. Everything that's been going on, all the little things that have been driving me up the wall. "It's just gotten a lot harder since I came back."

"Are you thinking it's more than you can handle?" Angel asked, leaning in a little bit. Once in a while, he could be very intuitive.

"Yeah, I am," I said. It was true. I was feeling like I couldn't handle the situation anymore. I felt too weak, too forced. I felt like quitting.

"What are you proposing to do about it?" Angel reached up and slid an unruly strand of hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes for a moment, basking in the feel of his touch. I opened my eyes and held his hand to the side of my face. He brought his face down and our lips met in an electric kiss. Then I knew what I really wanted, what I've always wanted.

"Angel," I spoke softly when he pulled away. "Can I stay with you?"

He raised a brow, as if not quite understanding the question. "For how long?"

"It doesn't matter, I don't care, " I answered. "However long you want to keep me."

"I could keep you forever, Buffy, " he replied, rubbing his thumb against my hand. "But I don't know if it's the best answer. You running away from what you were chosen to do."

"I'm not running away," I said hastily. "I just need some time to...I don't know - recuperate? Angel, I could train with you and be faster, stronger, better than I am now."

"But how could we do it?" I could tell by the look on his face what he was thinking. There were only two ways our relationships ended, and neither of them is one we wanted to face again. I struggling for something to say, but I couldn't. Then, either by some stroke of luck or ulterior motive, a strange woman strode up to the table. She had nonchalant blue eyes, long brown hair, and a haughty smirk.

"I think I might be able to answer that question," the woman said without invitation or introduction. Apparently, she didn't need one. When Angel saw her, his face hardened. But despite his icy glare, she maintained that arrogant smile.

"Who is this?" I asked openly. I was confused, no doubt. Angel sat back and spat out her name, "Lilah."

"I just _hate_ how my name rolls off your lips," Lilah said, crossing her arms about herself. I nudged Angel for more information.

"She's the head of the psychos that work at Wolfram And Hart, law firm for the evil-doers."

"That just happens to own most of LA," Lilah pointed out.

"What're you doing here?" Angel questioned, but I was wondering too.

"Answering your prayers. Do you mind?" Lilah sat down, not giving either me or Angel a chance to say no.

"What do you mean 'answering your prayers'?" I asked and she grinned in return.

"Well," Lilah said slyly. "What would you say if I could hand over your dreams to you on a silver platter?"

I looked at Angel; he looked back at me. Though this Lilah was undoubtedly in it for herself, I felt like I should trust her to an extent. It was odd.

"What're you talking about?" Angel was getting impatient, but Lilah only chuckled, flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

"I think you know very well what I'm talking about, Angel." She said in a serious tone. "You're the only one who can remember your 'oh-so perfect day', so I'm guessing you won't be forgetting that any time soon."

"How do you know about that?" Angel's eyes grew a bit wider so I took it that Lilah had hit a nerve there.

"How do I know about everything? It took quite a bit of mystical energy to rewind time, you know. We watch that, as closely as possible."

"I'm guessing as much as you watch me."

"Well, let's say you're not that interesting to watch anymore."

"So why are you here?"

"I'm going to extend that perfect day of yours," Lilah said whimisically. "Hopefully, forever."

"What perfect day?" I bursted out before either of them could say anything more. I was curious, couldn't help it.

"Oh, that's right, you wouldn't remember," Lilah falsely sighed. "And all because of Angel."

"Don't," Angel warned, staring down Lilah.

"No," I sat up, now wanting real answers since I was brought into it. "Tell me."

"You see," Lilah answered. "Your knight-in-shining-armor over here was actually human once. A whole day, to be specific. You two hunted down a Mohra demon that by slim chance, made Angel alive again. And then he had to cop out and asked the Oracles to turn back time to change the events. This is why _he_ remembers and _you_ don't."

My head was spinning with all this information. I couldn't believe it. I stared at Angel, but he dropped his eyes. Lilah sat back, self-satisfied. I blinked a couple of times, still not quite getting it.

"Wh - why did you do it?" I asked him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You have to understand," Angel started shakily. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It couldn't work, I relied too much on you. I couldn't hold you down, no matter what. I didn't tell you because...I was scared it would hurt you too much."

I was still dazed that Angel had been human, or hadn't been; I was still in too much shock to make heads or tails of it. He looked at me, eyes begging for forgiveness. I entwined my fingers with his, all I could for now.

"I hate to interrupt this cuddle moment, but could we get down to business?" Lilah spoke up and both of us looked at her. She opened a small, straped suitcase next to her on the seat and pulled out a single sheet of paper, along with a pen and set them on the table.

"What are you doing?" Angel questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Like I said, I'm giving you your dreams on a silver platter," Lilah answers, sliding the paper and pen across the table. "Everything you want is right here, in black and white. All you have to do is sign."

"What's the full deal?" I asked, staring at the contract.

"Twenty-four hours after both your signatures are planted, our mystics cast a spell to return Angel to the living. Then Angel will live and die as any normal man, side effects not included. The spell is held through the contract, which means it's binding," Lilah squinted her eyes for effect. "_Very_ binding."

All I wanted was out. This seemed like the perfect opportunity. Right then, I was thinking of Lilah as almost a fairy godmother, not an evil lawyer. I had picked up the pen when Angel stopped my hand.

"Wait," he said, then looked at Lilah scrutinizingly. "Why exactly are you doing this?"

"You know why," she said off-handedly, but Angel cleared his throat. "Because the big boys want you out of the game. At least for a while."

"Then why not kill me?" Angel presented. "Why turn me human?"

Lilah scoffed. "They think you're too important to lose," Angel wasn't impressed. "Don't worry, we wouldn't harm a single hair on your big head, human or not."

Angel began to say something more, but I caught his attention.

"This is it, Angel," I said quietly to him, so that Lilah could barely hear me. "This is what we've been waiting for. This is our chance, our only chance to really be together."

"Don't you think we should think about this first?" Angel whispered back. "Before we make any decisions?"

"I'm done thinking," I said with a tone of finality. "We've got to act. Now. Please, for both of us."

I needed him with me, I knew this. And Angel stared into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Then he released a small sigh of resignation. I smiled and took his hand in assurance. Then we turned to Lilah and the haughty smirk returned to her face.

"We have business then?" She clarified.

"Yes," Angel replied in monotone. I squeezed his hand a bit and he squeezed back. I picked the pen back up and signed a slow, anxious 'Buffy Summers' on the first line. I handed the pen to Angel. He signed his name on the line next to mine. A simple, genuine 'Angel'.

"It's done," Lilah announced, slipping both contract and pen into her suitcase. Then she stood and took a step from the table.

"Start counting down, kids. It's going to be a wild ride."


	2. One Hour

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this story. They all belong to Joss Whedon, because he is awesome.

Author's Note: I am not quite sure where this story lies in the Angel timeline. I'm hoping it's before Wolfram & Hart transformation, and before baby Connor. If it doesn't, I'm sorry and please don't sue me.

* * *

The anticipation hung heavily in the air. I was sitting down on a round sofa in the lobby of the Hyperion hotel, waiting...and waiting. Twenty-four hours never seemed this long until now. And I could tell everyone was on pins and needles.

Cordelia was avidly straightening up the front desk, her eyes narrowed and way too concentrated on the acting of throwing away newspapers. Wesley would ever so often pop out of his office, look around, sigh and slink back. A man named Gunn I'd just met that day would fidget in his seat, unable to find a comfortable position. And the girl named Fred was frantically flipping through pages of several books, seemingly looking for something that didn't exist.

It was suffocating, all the tension and subtle excitement. It was wearing my patience thin. I looked down at my watch, there was an hour to go. One whole hour. I suppressed a wide smile as I stood up. I felt like running (as if that would speed up time) but as soon as my footfalls crossed the lobby, everyone dropped whatever they were doing. Wesley rushed out of his office, Fred dropped her books and Gunn jumped to his feet.

"Easy, you guys," I said, turning around. "It's just me."

"What're you doing?" Cordelia snapped, obviously miffed at being fooled by _my_ feet.

"I'm just going to go upstairs and check on him," I answered, letting Cordelia's tone roll off my back.

"Do you think there's something wrong with him?" Fred piped up, pushing her glasses back on her nose.

"Of course there's something wrong," Gunn cut in. "It's Angel."

"So glad you have so much faith in him, Charles," Wesley said, dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey!" Cordelia called attention. "Calm down, people. If something was wrong, we'd know about it. Especially Buffy."

"Thanks," I said and she nodded in return. I turned back around and headed up the stairs. When I reached Angel's landing, my legs turned to jelly. Every step towards his door made my stomach tighten. I still waiting to wake up and have this all be a dream. I raised my fist to knock on the door and breathed out slowly. _Please, don't be just a dream_.

"Hey," Angel pulled the door open. He smiled a little and pulled the door open wider. I restrained myself from rushing to him and hugging him hard enough to break a rib. So I just walked past him and he shut the door behind me. The knot in my stomach wasn't easing up and then I thought that being around Angel was only making it worse. When I thought about leaving again, he stopped me.

"Do you want anything?" Angel asked, stepping up behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and slid them down my arms, electricity shooting into every corner of my body.

"N-no," I managed out. Angel moved in front of me and I couldn't help but look up at him.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, worriedly. His brows were furrowed and I could swear if he looked at me any harder, he'd be able to see right through me.

"It's fine," I said, struggling with a smile. "It's just that..."

"What?" Angel pried. I swallowed.

"One more hour."

Angel nodded, understanding the gravity of what I was saying. We were at the point of no return. Stuck. He sat down on the edge of his bed and gestured for me to sit with him. When I did, he put an arm around my shoulders.

"Do you think we're making a mistake?" Angel asks me, rubbing the top of my arm.

"No!" I exclaimed, looking at him. "No. It's -- I don't want to lose you. I don't know what you're like as a human, and I -- I don't want to lose you."

Angel tightened his hold on me, bringing me in close. He inhaled and kissed my forehead. I clung to his shirt and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"You won't lose me," he said after a moment. "I'll be different, but I'll still be me."

"I hope so," I replied. He pulled away a little and I looked at him. He moved towards the center of the bed, half-propped up by the pillows. He waved me over, and in a moment, I was molding myself against his body. He put an arm under my head and I wrapped mine around his waist. He was caressing my cheek with his other hand, cold and supernatural. I stared into his deep, brown orbs, feeling the weight of the world in those eyes. So heavy that I closed my own and scooted closer.

"I love you, Angel," I said, losing myself to my thoughts.

"I love you, Buffy," he responded softly, somewhere near my ear.

How did I ever find someone like him? I was a strange, young girl, thrown into two different worlds. I had my misfit friends, enemies, and _then_ mortal enemies. Then he found me. Weird enough that a vampire would consider a Slayer his friend, let alone a lover. The only stable thing in my life at that time was him, someone I connected with, heart and soul. He left me three times, and yet...I could never stop loving him. He was my one, my only.

I was in the space where my thoughts were slowly turning into dreams when I was jerked awake. I looked at Angel, watching his hands clench and unclench. His mouth was clamped shut. Suddenly, he yelled loudly and shot upright.

"Angel!" I sat up, eyes wide and bewildered at what was happening. "Are you all right? Angel?"

He had his eyes shut and didn't move for a moment. I was panicking, everything running through my head at once. Should I call for help? Should I run? I didn't touch him or move at all for a moment that seemed to take forever.

"Angel?" I tried again. Angel opened his eyes, and I noticed that they were slightly different. Still that classic dark brown, but somehow full of new life. He opened his mouth, gasping, then panting as if he'd just run a long way. Then he looked at me, with a smile and eyes of wonder.

"I-" Angel started, reaching out for my hand, which I gave him. "I'm alive, I.."

I laced my fingers with his, feeling heat from _his_ palms. With my other hand, I touched his chest, and his heart was racing. I could feel it. I look at him, tears in my eyes, letting it all sink in. He was really alive, again. My Angel.

"Buffy," Angel said, taking me up into arms and holding me tightly. I buried my face in the space between his neck and shoulder, breathing in his new-found scent. I couldn't help it, the tears just started pouring. I was shaking by the time the others burst into the room.

"Buffy, move!" Cordelia shouted, pushing Gunn out in front of her. "Hurry!"

"Alright, bite-boy," Gunn threatened, wielding a crossbow. "Back it up, _gently_."

"Careful, Charles," Fred said. "He might --"

"Might what?" Angel said, looking up at them. I pulled away from him, wiping my cheeks and shocked at the ruckus that was going on.

"Might.." Wesley paused. "Angel?"

"Yeah," he answered, nodding. "Who else would it be?"

"We heard yelling," Gunn said, lowering the crossbow. "We thought that maybe --"

"Maybe Wolfram And Hart had tricked you," Wesley finished.

"How could they trick me?" Angel looked at me, smoothing my hair gently. "It was Buffy who sealed the deal."

"We thought that might've discovered a way to," Wesley cleared his throat. "To steal your soul."

"My soul?" Angel sounded like he was about to laugh. "Through a contract?"

"You're sure you're Angel?" Fred questioned. Gunn stood at the ready.

"Yes, I'm sure," he glanced at me before chuckling. "I'm just not the same anymore."

"You mean it worked?" Cordelia asked.

"Yeah, it did," Angel stood and helped me up. I still so amazed, I didn't want to let him go. But I did anyway. Especially when he had to go and explain things to Wesley, Gunn and Fred. Cordelia hung back with me. We walked down the hall, following the others slowly.

"Are you all right?" She asked me. I was still wiping away tears.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, sniffling. "I'm just so -- happy, I suppose."

"For now, anyway."

I stopped in my tracks, saying, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Cordelia started. "that it may not last. This whole human thing. He said that last time, he was only human for a day."

"Yes, but -" She cut me off.

"I'm just telling you Buffy. You're happy now, but how happy will you be if he has to give it up?"

"I don't know," I said, staring down at the floor. Any thought of losing Angel now was bound to be heartbreaking. Could I even do it? "I don't know..."

"I know, Buffy, I'm just saying. It could happen. Just...don't get hurt, ok?"


	3. The First Time

Disclaimer: I own no characters, but I borrow them 'cause I'm cool like that, yo.

Author's Note: WARNING: Sex scene. I try to skip the pornographic details, but it is the art of writing to let the readers know how a 'thing' or 'things' makes the person feel. So it may be a personal. As a forewarning, other sex scenes may be more graphic. Just enjoy and try to not to be _too_ freaked out.

* * *

The drive to Sunnydale was long, and for the most part, silent. What could we say to each other? We were thrown back into each other's lives in one fateful night. Of course, there were questions. Some of mine were: Where are we going to live? How are my friends going to react to a newly human Angel? Do we have a relationship? Is this going to last? And I know he must've had some questions too. But they weren't exactly the kind of questions that made for conversation, especially not _good_ conversations. So we spent most of the time in quiet, in tension.

I leaned my head against the window of the new car. Angel's old car was blacked out, and that just wasn't needed anymore. Angel drove with his window down, air rushing in and the sun on his arms. It was such an odd sight to see him like this, but my heart swelled seeing it. I watched as we passed the "Welcome To Sunnydale" sign.

To start over back in Sunnydale was a mutual decision. I knew that fighting in a large city where half it's occupants were demons couldn't be done by a human Angel. And he knew that Dawn and my friends would worry sick about me being gone for so long, and wouldn't worry less if I told them that I was staying with Angel. So I helped him pack up some things, find an affordable, suitable car and we started back. It felt like to me, we're back at square one. Square one in a second (or third) match, however.

"It hasn't changed much," Angel mentioned as we rode through town. I took note that it's the first full sentence he's said in over two hours.

"No," I answered, glancing at him. "Still the same old Sunnydale, I guess."

"Feels like home," I turned my head fully to see him this time. His free hand was dangling out of the window, catching the breeze. His eyes were concentrated on the road. But it was his smile that got me. A gentle, small smile that made me somehow feel grounded. Like, this is where I'm supposed to be. It was nice.

Angel pulled into my driveway, and I was a nervous wreck all over again. I had told Angel all about Willow and Tara living with Dawn and I, but I hadn't called them to warn them or anything. Tara had never even _met_ Angel. So I wasn't sure how this was going to work out. Angel could feel my tension.

"Don't worry," he said, turning off the engine and pulling out the keys. "It'll be fine, I'm sure."

"How sure?" I stared out at the front door.

"Very sure," Angel assured. "They're your friends, what's the worst that can happen?"

"They're my friends, the worst _can_ happen."

Angel laughed as he pulled a bag from the backseat. I stepped out of the car, imagining how this scene could play out. 'Hey Dawn, Willow, Tara. Here's Angel. He's human now and I'm going to go find a dark hole to crawl in until everyone goes away.' I led Angel up the front stairs and inside. The house was active, I could tell. Most of the lights were on and I could hear conversation in the kitchen.

"Dawn?" I called as Angel set his bag down by the door. "Willow? Tara? I'm home!"

"Coming!" Willow called back and all three of them came bustling from the kitchen. They all smiled widely, Dawn in the lead until they saw Angel. Only Tara, the ignorant one, didn't falter. There was a long, uncomfortable pause before Tara spoke up.

"How was the trip?" Tara asked, looking at Angel only in a curious way.

"It was fine, mostly good," I answered. When Dawn finally closed her gaping mouth, she asked, "Angel?"

"Hey, Dawn," Angel shuffled his feet. "How've you been?"

"I'm sorry," Willow apologized in advance. "But what are you doing here?"

"Um, he --" I looked back and forth between Dawn and Willow. "He's going to be staying up here for a while. Hopefully a - a long while."

"Oh, so _this_ is Angel!" Tara said, realization dawning on her face. She strode right over and shook his hand. "I'm Tara, the girlfriend. Oh! Willow's girlfriend, not - um - Buffy's."

"I got it," Angel smiled and the tension in the room was relaxed a little. "Nice to meet you, Tara."

"I guess I can say hi, too," Dawn chimed in and went over to give Angel a hug. "By the way, I've been fine. Now that Buffy's back anyway."

When Angel let go of Dawn, he faced Willow. "Hey, Willow. How are you?"

"Just fine," Willow softened a little. "Sorry, it's just so sudden, you being here and all."

"I know, everything lately is kind of sudden," Angel replied.

"Uh-huh," Willow glanced out of the window with another look of confusion. "Hey, you know that it's just now sunset? Don't you have a blanket or somethin'? How'd you get --"

"Hey, Wil," I cut her off, grabbing her arm. "Can we talk for a minute? Give Angel a chance to catch up with Dawn and get to know Tara."

"Um, ok," Willow answered, but I was already dragging her off to the kitchen. I leaned against the counter, taking a breath. She didn't have to ask; I could see the question on her face.

"There's no easy way around this so," I started, looking her in the eye. "He's human."

"What?" Willow said, unbelievingly.

"Yeah, Angel's human now," I verified. "As of yesterday."

"Really?" Willow asked incredulously. "How did this happen?"

"Well, I went to meet him halfway, like we'd planned. And we started talking and this woman came straight up and offered to make Angel human. All we did was sign a contract and twenty-four hours later, he's alive and kicking again." I paused, shaking my head. "It's amazing, really."

"Wow," Willow leaned against the counter with me. "So, if you don't mind me asking, why's he back here? I mean, in Sunnydale."

"Well, now that he's human, we thought -" I paused. Willow looked at me, proddingly. "We thought maybe we could start over. Together."

"Ohhh," Willow sounded, knowingly. "So all your dreams are coming true. What's next?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "I thought we'd start slow. Things aren't quite the same between he and I. I mean, the feelings are there, it's just ... strange, I suppose."

"I see," Willow said, standing straight again. "Well, let's not leave them alone for too long. Dawn might be kicking Angel out as we speak."

I laughed. Then we walked back towards them, only to find that they were all comfortably sitting in the living room, talking calmly with many smiles and even a few laughs. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking, _Maybe everything will work out, after all_.

"So are we still going to The Bronze tonight or what?" Dawn asked Willow and Willow looked at me.

"Well, don't let me stop you," I said. "Go, have fun."

"Maybe Tara and I can have Dawnie stay over at our dorm," Willow whispered to me. "Give you and Angel sometime alone?"

"Thanks, Wil," I said, geniunely smiling. Dawn rushed upstairs to grab her coat while Tara put hers on in the living room.

"It was really nice to meet you, Angel," Tara said. "I'll see you around."

"Yep," Angel agreed and waved as she and Willow went out the door, Dawn in hot pursuit. I sighed again, shutting the door after them. I prepped myself for more awkwardness as Angel walked over to me.

"They took it extremely well, I think," I said, crossing my arms and looking at the door for a minute.

"I guess I'll have to find some space for you, huh?" He nodded and I picked up his bag. He followed me upstairs and down the hall to my room.

"You can keep your things up here if you want," I said, setting his bag down in a chair. "I can start making up the couch for you to sleep on and maybe we can find a better place tomorrow."

"All right," Angel merely agreed, casually shutting the door behind him. My heart was racing already. He and I just being alone in a room together was...exciting. He walked over to my dresser, looking over my things, catching his reflection in my mirror. I couldn't help it, I bursted out my thoughts.

"How does this work, Angel?" I said, catching his attention right away. "Are we just friends or could we be something more? I - You've barely touched me, looked at me or said two words to me since you -- since you changed and I can't handle this - this --"

"I'm sorry," I choked and turned my back to him. I shut my eyes and breathed in deeply, my mouth was getting away with me. I just felt like it was too new, all of it. He walked up behind me.

"I'm sorry, too," Angel said softly. "I wasn't even thinking about how this was making you feel. It _is_ new, for both of us."

I nodded a little and felt his presence get closer...and closer. Angel reached out and took hold of my jacket, pulling it down off my arms slowly. I froze, instinctively.

"I know it's strange. You don't know how badly I wanted to talk to you," he said as he ran his hands up my arms. "Or touch you. I just wanted to be sure...but I am now."

He took one of his hands and pushed my hair over one shoulder. Then he pulled me to him, an arm wrapping around my waist, pressing our bodies together. I felt his lips kiss my neck and shoulder, little wisps of breath tingling my skin. I melted against him.

"I'm sure now," he whispered between kisses. "I want you."

I shut my eyes as my heart pounded in my throat. I felt the sensation of his lips turn into tongue. I moaned softly, pressing my back against his chest, as he licked my jawline, tasting me. His tongue was amazing. I was already shivering and shaking with building arousal.

"I want you," I concurred, turning around in his arms, placing my mouth with his for a deep, passionate kiss. My hands found the buttons on his shirt and hurried to undo them. I wanted to feel his skin against mine. He obviously had the same thoughts as his fingertips went up my shirt, tracing my back. I pushed the shirt off his shoulders and to the floor, then my own went up over my head. Our bodies crashed into each other, our kissing more intense.

Then we proceeded the kicking off of our shoes, and the ridding of our pants, frantic at the loss of contact for more than a moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing him back towards the bed. He landed with a soft _oof!_ and I quickly came to straddle his lap. I left his lips for a while to explore his shoulders, chest and stomach. I was hovered around his hip when I heard him moan. I climbed back up, running my hands through his hair, slowly pressing down on him to make him writhe with desire.

In one quick motion, Angel flipped us over and took off my bra at once. _His_ turn to make me squirm. He devoured my chest and abdomen, kissing, licking and even biting in all right places. His hands followed his mouth, gently rubbing and groping. He was somewhere below my belly button, when I grabbed his wrists, unable to take much more. Angel lifted himself above me as we shed our last yard of clothing. He stared down at my naked body with amazement. His fingertips tenderly traced my outline with care.

I pulled him close to me and positioned my knees on his waist. His weight on my body was welcome as our warm skin attached itself to the other. He put a hand under my head and I invited another deep, loving kiss. I moaned softly as his tongue caressed my own and his arousal pressed against my leg. We were aching and desperate to find more closeness when I used my legs to bring his hips to mine. Angel pulled away from our kiss to look into my eyes with his own amber ones. Then he brought his forehead to mine and pushed himself deep inside me. I gasped and felt my whole body start to tingle.

"Buffy," Angel whispered at my cheek before he started a rhythm. My eyes shut tight and I clung to him, my body fitting so perfectly to his. _This_ was heaven, I thought as Angel made love to me. He ran his hands through my hair and left feather-light kisses all over me during the slow parts. He gripped me tightly when I called his name and felt his heated breath across my skin through the fast parts. We shuddered and shook and moaned and cried out for what seemed like hours on end before we gave in.

"I love you," I said breathlessly before Angel kissed me. Then he stared so hard into my eyes that I was frightened of what he might say next. It felt like he was looking directly into my soul.

"I love you," He didn't stop looking when he said it. A moment later, he rolled off to my side. I turned over and we folded against each other. I sighed in complete satisfaction and laid my head on his chest, a hand on his stomach and a leg across his.

"I guess you sleep here then," I said and he chuckled, brushing my hair away from my face. He kissed the top of my head before laying back.

"Good night," he said, holding me close. I repeated the phrase, allowing myself to fall into the deepest sleep I had had since I came back. It was _wonderful_, to be in his arms again. It was perfect. Like the first time.


	4. Breakfast And PDA

Disclaimer: I own none, but I claim this story. Because I rule...just a bit.

Author's Note: I don't much care for this chapter in the way of the story arch, it feels like a filler to me. But I did have some need of some jusifiable stress relievers, who are shown to be in this chapter, Willow and Tara, but more predominately Dawn (who will remain to be our comic relief). You might notice the repeats of phrases and actions, I think it's cute that way. So I did enjoy writing this tidbit of humor, and hopefully you will too and see more like it later on.

_By the way, thanks to all you guys who reviewed! I greatly appreciate it and it makes me want to write more. You people are awesome!_

* * *

One Week Later

I was woken up by the feel of someone stroking my arm, very lightly with their fingertips. I moaned, half in delight at Angel's touch, half in despair at being awoken. I squeezed his arm, opening my eyes. He merely smiled down at me.

"You're the happy riser," I said sleepily.

"Only when I wake up next to you," he replied and I felt a blush coming on.

"Mmm," I sounded, leaning over him to see the clock. It read 8:14 AM.

"Oof," I plopped back down on the pillows and mumbled, "It's too early."

"Go back to sleep," Angel said, setting my arm down and kissing my forehead. He slipped out of the bed and stretched. I reached my hand out to him for a moment, but begging was too much. I soon fell back asleep, my arm dangling off the side.

"Good morning, Angel," Willow said, popping into the kitchen with a bounce in her step. Angel looked up from the newspaper and smiled. He sat in a chair on the end of the island, circling random things in his paper. He was fitting into the household, almost seamlessly. Everyone had grown used to him and there was now a sort of routine to the situation.

"Morning, Willow," he answered as she went to the cupboard to make herself a bowl of cereal.

"Whatcha doin'?" Willow asked him, as she sat, too, at the island. Angel lifted the paper with a sigh.

"Want ads," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I can't live off of you guys forever, you know."

"Ohh," Willow nodded, half-smiling. "But, you know, you don't have to rush or anything. We're happy to have you here, and --"

"Don't worry, Willow," Angel cut her off before she started rambling. "I get it."

Tara was the next to bustle into the kitchen. She didn't say a word until she got a glass of water. Then after taking a couple sips, she talked.

"Morning, baby," she said, kissing Willow on the cheek. Then she grinned at Angel, "Hi, Angel."

"Hey, Tara," Angel glanced up from the paper. "How're you this morning?"

"Pretty good," she answered, hugging Willow. "You?"

Angel sighed and shook his head. Willow turned her head and with a tone of dread, "Want ads."

"Oh! Well, Angel," Tara said shakily. "Y-you do know th-that we're not trying to p-push you away or --"

"It's okay, Tara," Angel chuckled, looking her in the eye. "Willow covered it already."

"Oh," Tara giggled. "Okay then."

Dawn came in next, rubbing her eyes and still adorned in pajamas. She plopped down on a stool and yawned.

"Good morning, Willow. Good morning, Tara." She waved to the respectable people. "Good morning, Angel."

"You sound pretty tired Dawnie, what's up?" Tara asked, stealing a spoonful of Willow's cereal.

"Something about..." Dawn faked a thought process. "Oh, yeah. _Midterms_."

"Oh, are they that bad?" Willow asked, looking over at Dawn.

"Oh yeah," Dawn said, dropping her head into her palm. "They're _that_ bad."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Angel said, tapping his pen against the paper.

"Okay, Mr. Distracted, what're you up to?" Dawn asked, peering at the newspaper.

"Want ads," Tara whispered with a grimace.

"Angel!" Dawn snapped so quickly that Angel jumped. "We _love_ having you here, you don't have to hurry and --"

"It's all right, Dawn," Angel sighed then laughed. "You guys are incredible. I'm not _leaving_. I'm just trying to get a job, all right? No big deal."

"What's no big deal?" I asked, stepping into the kitchen. I walked up behind Angel, putting my arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

"Me getting a job," Angel answered, holding one of my arms to him.

"Oh," I said, off-handedly. "Cool. You got the want ads?"

"Yeah," Angel dropped his pen, in feign defeat. "But it seems like anything I _could_ do, either requires licences, experience, or a high school diploma."

"If you want to go to school instead of me, I'd be cool with that," Dawn perked up for a moment, then after receiving a few dark looks, backed down. "Or...not."

"Don't stress," I said, turning Angel's face towards me. "You'll find something before you know it."

Angel smiled and I couldn't help it. I bent down to kiss those fine lips and ended up in his lap in an instant. Dawn groaned.

"So when does _my_ boyfriend get to move in?" Dawn asked. My attention to Angel was cut by this statement. _Boys? There were boys now?_

"What boyfriend?" I said, noticing the untertone of fear and worry in my own voice.

"I think it was a joke, Buffy," Willow giggled. Dawn shrugged.

"Well, I'm just gonna go and get ready," Dawn said, hopping down from the stool. "All this PDA is bound to make me queasy."

With that, she hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I looked at Angel, lacing my fingers behind his neck and recognized his look of confusion.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned.

"Um," Angel looked up at me, brows raised. "What's PDA?"

Willow and Tara exploded into laughter behind us, and I couldn't help giggling too. I'd almost forgotten how little Angel knew about certain things like teenage slang. I stopped myself and kissed Angel's furrowed brow. He relaxed a little so I proceeded to kiss his lips. No interruptions this time. When I finally pulled away, I hopped off his lap with a smile.

"So the job hunting's today then?" I asked before stealing a spoonful of Willow's cereal.

"Yeah," Angel answered. "We'll see what kind of offers I can get."

"That really sucks," Willow chimes in. "You wait all this time to get all human again, and come to find out, it was cheaper being a vampire!"

Tara and I giggled behind our hands. Angel gave Willow a thoughtful look, then shrugged.

"Every rose has its thorn, I suppose," he said, frowning down at the want ads.

"Then we'll just have to cut them off," I declared and he smiled a little. "I better start looking for a job, too. Somewhere between when I died and when I came back, I went into debt. Finances are the devil, I swear. They'll follow you _everywhere_."

"We'll help as much as we can, Buffy," Tara offered and Willow fervently nodded in agreement. I felt so lucky to have friends like these. I hugged them both.

"You guys are the best," I said, beaming.

"Hey, Buffy," Willow said as I pulled away from her. "Have you thought about going back? To college?"

"Oh," I looked down at the counter. "No, I didn't. I mean, with all that's happened..."

"Well," Angel cleared his throat. "You probably should go back. It's important, right? College?"

"_Very_ important," Willow answered confidently, who had always thought education a top priority.

"All right," I said, carrying a new tone of responsibility. "I'll re-apply. Today even."

"Good!" Willow grinned, obviously satisfied. Outside, a car honked. Willow looked at her watch.

"Late, again?" she frowned. Then she left the kitchen, calling up the stairs, "Xander's here!"

"I think I'm going to catch a ride with them," I said, walking over to Angel. He smiled up at me and I touched his cheek. I was so happy he was here, _still_ here. If I had a choice, I would never leave his side again.

"After I pick up my application, I'll swing by the Magic Box and see if Anya could use some of your help," I stated and he murmured a 'thank you' against my lips as I went to kiss him. Another honk outside. I pulled back against my will.

"I love you," I told Angel while backing out of the kitchen.

"I love you, too," he told me and I raced out of the house, barely making it to Xander's car in time. Tara stood up from her seat at the island and Angel turned to her.

"I've got to get to school too," Angel nodded and smiled a bit. "Good luck with the - _ahem_ - job hunt."

"Thanks," Angel smiled in return. Tara got to the doorway before stopping and turning around.

"By the way," Angel looked up at her thoughtfully, not expecting the next addition. "PDA means 'Public Displays of Affection', and for some reason, that grosses kids out."


	5. Intervention

Disclaimer: So it's a funny thing. I don't own the characters, but I still get to mess with them. How sweet a deal is that?

Author's Note: This chapter is written in Angel's point of view. I'm trying it out. I sort of like how it played out and I might do it again in the future. So, review and let me know how _you_ like it.

* * *

I walked into the house, breathing in the aroma of a home-cooked meal. I still hadn't quite gotten used to the fact that I _could_ breathe, and heart beating, and warm body. It was the greatest feeling I'd had in years, many years. After hanging up my jacket on the coat stand, I walked into the dining room where I could hear chatter.

"So it was just a mouse?" Tara asked Dawn. Dawn shook her head fervently.

"No!" She said. "It was this _huge_ rat and of course, all the girls freaked out, knocking all the chemicals on the floor. Then our science teacher freaked out too because we were wasting on his precious experiment. It was just a big mess."

"Oh," Tara nodded half-heartedly as if she didn't understand the ruckus over a rat. Then she looked up at me. "Hey, Angel."

At the mention of my name, Buffy turned around in her seat, reaching behind her to grab my hand. I obliged, greeting Tara and Dawn. Then I bent down to place a kiss on Buffy's cheek.

"How was work?" Buffy asked me, pulling out a chair at the table for me. I sat down, still holding her hand.

"Good," I said honestly with a smile. "Much better than usual. I did half the manual labor Anya usually makes me do."

"She does it because she cares," Dawn said, bringing out a chuckle from me.

"You made it just in time," Buffy states. "We were just about to have dinner."

"Uh-oh," I went for a joking tone. "You didn't cook it, did you?"

I received a glare and pursed lips from Buffy for that one. I laughed it off for her and kissed her hand apologetically. She smiled then as Willow came in, carrying a couple of bowls and a bread basket. She set them in the middle of table before hurrying back to the kitchen. We all leaned forward to see what was in store for us tonight. So far, mashed potatoes, green beans and dinner rolls. It smelled heavenly.

"Ta-da," Willow declared, setting a platter of sliced chicken down before sitting next to Tara.

"It looks great, sweetie," Tara praised, nuzzling Willow's cheek and she beamed.

"Well, let's dig in, then," Willow said and nobody needed her to tell them twice. Soon the dishes were being passed around and conversation erupted. I took my share and got two bites in before Buffy scooted closer to me. I put my arm around her small shoulders and she laid a hand in my lap and we both enjoyed the meal that way, occasionally casting each other a look.

"You know how everyone says 'it tastes chicken'" Dawn said, before taking a forkful. "But then nobody can describe what chicken tastes like. It's not sweet or sour, or mealy or soft. It's _just _chicken."

"The way your brain works amazes me, Dawnie," Buffy said, shaking her head.

"No, no," Dawn said. "Wait. I have a point, which is, why everyone says it tastes like chicken. Because everyone likes chicken. You don't hear anyone saying 'it tastes like cabbage' or 'it tastes like sushi'. Chicken is the universal language-food. It says, 'Welcome and I like you very much'."

"Except to vegetarians," Tara pointed out. "Chicken to them would be sort of offensive, right?"

"Right," Dawn said, nodding. "But then you would just buy soy-made stuff. Like vegetarian-friendly chicken."

We all laughed so much that none of us heard the phone ring, all save for Willow. She excused herself quickly and hurried to the kitchen. The rest of us continued eating and talking. After some time, I turned my head to see Willow walking back into the dining room. She carried a look of concern, not at all the cheerful disposition she left with. Buffy took notice.

"What's up, Wil?" she asked.

"Nothing," Willow shook it off and plastered on a smile. "Just the phone."

"Oh, who was it?" Dawn inquired. Everyone gazed at Willow.

"Um," Willow faltered. "It was - um - Giles."

"Giles?" Buffy's eyes widened. I knew she hadn't spoken to him since she brought me here. I kept myself quiet, though I was a bit curious.

"What did he say?" Willow shrugged a bit, as if she were trying to play it cool.

"Nothing much," she answered. "Just checking up on us all; I told him we were doing fine."

"What about --" Buffy broke off, looking up at me.

"I - I told him about you, Angel," Willow said nervously. "That you were human again."

"What did he say?" Buffy asked the question for me. I expected Giles to be angry, upset that I was suddenly back in Buffy's life.

"He was shocked, I think," Willow fiddled with her napkin. "Not a _bad_ shock, he just wasn't expecting anything like this. After he got used to it, he seemed pretty happy about it."

"Ah," Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. Inwardly, I did too. Tara and Dawn even sat back as they were apprehensive as well. Shakily at first, we began eating again and starting mild conversation. Soon, the phone call from Giles was the last thing on our minds. I, however, felt that Giles had more to say than just 'How are things?'. Especially after Willow told him about me.

At the end of dinner, we all helped Willow clear the table. Afterwards, Dawn, Tara and Buffy were headed to the living room to watch a movie. I was going to join them, when someone pulled me back. I turned; it was Willow.

"I need to talk to you," I follow Willow back into the kitchen.

"What's up?" I asked. Willow sounded a bit worried. And that worried me.

"Buffy, she - uh - hasn't been slaying lately, has she?" The question was a slap in the face. I thought for a moment, and I couldn't remember a time since we got to Sunnydale when she even went patrolling. I supposed that she was distracted somewhat, with coming back and being with me. I was ashamed that I didn't think about it.

"Is that what Giles really called about?" Willow nodded and I sighed. "No. I don't think she has been. Why? Is something coming?"

"No, no," Willow said. "Not that we know of, anyway. Giles just wants Buffy to be alert, be ready, in case..."

"In case something _is_ coming."

"After he heard about you, he pushed on the fact that Buffy needs to be out there, patrolling and watching. He said she can't be - distracted - by you, because that puts too many people in danger --"

"I know," I replied darkly. "We've been there before, remember?"

Willow bit her lip and was quiet for a moment. "But he _is_ happy - for you. He just wants to know that Buffy's doing the right thing. He cares, really. And he wanted --"

"What?" I pried. "Wanted what?"

"He wanted you to talk to her about it," Willow said.

"Talk to Buffy?" I clarified. "About slaying?"

Willow nodded. I sighed again, looking off into the hall. I didn't want to say that Buffy could've been serious about not slaying anymore. To be honest, I didn't know if she _was_ serious, or still is. I knew it would be the right thing to do. If something _could_ be coming...

"Would you?" Willow asked me tentatively. I nodded mutely and looked at her. She offered me a smile, which I couldn't mirror back. I already knew that Buffy would be upset, that she wouldn't understand at first. But somehow, I'd have to convince her. She was, after all, the Slayer. I walked out of the kitchen and went to the stairs. As I was climbing up, I heard Buffy wish Dawn and Tara a good night. She followed me into her room.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked right away. "You're quiet."

I turned around to face her and took a deep breath. She looked up at me with confused, green eyes. I shut the door behind her, then put my hands on each side of her head, rubbing her cheeks with my thumbs. I felt her relax slightly when she leaned into my touch. She went up on tiptoe to meet my lips briefly. I thought about the best way to approach this.

"I wanted to know," I started. "Have you thought about slaying lately?"

"Of course not," Buffy furrowed her brows. Already, her relaxed state was starting to ebb. "Why would I? I'm done with all that now."

"I know," I spoke calmly as to not inflame her. "But there could be something happening out there, something we could stop before it gets out of control."

"There's nothing," Buffy reassured me. "Even if there was, it's not my problem anymore. I'm just plain, old Buffy and I'm planning on staying that way."

"You mean if something was coming, you wouldn't do anything to stop it?" I strengthed my tone a bit and Buffy faltered. She opened her mouth and shut it soon after. Then she moved away from me, crossing her arms over her chest. I watched her closely. Her head was bent towards the ground, and she paced slowly. I knew she was thinking about it, and hoped she would make the right decision.

"But that's not me anymore," Buffy stopped pacing and eyed me. "I don't _have_ to be the Slayer and all I want is to be here with you."

"I want that, too," I said, reaching out to her and putting my hand on her shoulder. "And no, you don't _have_ to be the Slayer, but...I thought that you'd want to."

Buffy looked away again and sat on the edge of the bed, arms still folded. I rubbed the back of my neck. I was trying not to make her angry, but I succeeded in making her upset. She looked faintly sad, as she continued her gaze at the floor.

"I thought," Buffy said softly. "That maybe once, I could have a normal life. That coming back this time meant I could start over."

"You are starting over, Buffy," I comforted, sitting down by her. "But you were chosen to do this, and it's a part of who you are."

Slowly, she looked up at me. She allowed me to caress her cheek and even held my hand to her face. I hated making her feel badly, but she needed to know. She needed to decide.

"Am I ever just Buffy?" she asked honestly. "Sometimes I feel like I'm always the Slayer."

"More often than you know, you are," I kissed her forehead as she curled her hand around mine. "When you're with me. Because I want to be with Buffy, not the Slayer. It's _you_ I love."

"But," she said, squeezing my hand. "I - I don't want to push you away. I get in Slayer mode an - and I can't help but push people away."

"Shh," I pulled her close to me and kissed her gently. "You can't push me away. I'll still be here, no matter what. Every night you come back, and every morning you wake up, I'll be here."

"Do you promise?" she asked softly.

"I promise," I answered, kissing her again to seal it. She held onto me after our mouths were separated. I rubbed the small of her back, a gesture of comfort and offered lightly.

"Maybe tomorrow, you can come to the Magic Box and we can train."

"Okay," Buffy accepted, nodding against my chest. "I'd like that. And...tomorrow night...I'll go patrolling."

I smiled as she pulled away and stood up, going to change into her nightclothes. _Giles should be satisfied_, I thought. It was going to be rough, I expected at first. She was going to be coarse and unwary, but she would pull through. I knew this because I believed in her. If no one else, I believed in her.


	6. Back To The Big Bads

Disclaimer: It's a funny thing, I don't own these characters but I get to make them do things anyway. Does that make me like God? (Just kidding.)

Author's Note: It's time to get back to the Slayer. 'Cause whether Angel's human or not, Buffy is _still_ the chosen one. So I've made up some "big bads" for this story. To let you know, they are Ukrainian and Russian, and I know a bit of Ukrainian (so that'll be the main language for them). Translation will be at the end, k? Also, this will be my last update for a while, so you'll get a double dose: this chapter and the next. Work and and school suck, you know the drill.

* * *

I picked myself off of the floor for the second time. Angel proceeded to wait until I had settled in my fighting position again. Angrily brushing loose hair out of my face, I lifted my fists. I nodded at Angel to signal I was ready. He was _not_ going to get me this time.

"Good," he praised as I deflected one of his lower shots. I grabbed his other and planed my body for a blow in his midsection, effectively making him stumble backwards. Angel quickly recovered, blocking my punches. He used my last right hook as leverage to flip me over. I landed on my back onto the mat, knocking some of the wind out of me.

"Looks like I'm not the one who's out of shape," Angel grinned down at me. He dropped his stance which left me wide open to take him out. I hurried to a crouch, and swung my leg around. I kicked his legs out from under him and he landed heavily on the mat next to me.

"Care to rethink that?" I said while moving on top of him, pinning him for the count. Angel offered his palms in a 'Surrender' fashion. I hopped to my feet and helped him stand.

"It's good," Angel referred to the training session. "You'll do fine tonight."

"Thank you," I replied, hugging him. He bent his head down to kiss my nose. I wrinkled it up as he did so, making him chuckle.

"So what're you doing today?" I asked after I let go of him and sat up on the vault.

"Looking at some places," Angel answered, leaning against the vault. "Might be moving in somewhere by the end of the week."

"Oh," I nodded and looked down at my feet. I was joyous that Angel was settling in somewhere here, but a little disappointed that I might not be able to spend _as_ much time with him.

"What?" Angel drew my attention from my feet. I looked at him and shrugged half-heartedly. I looked back at my feet and swung them a little. Angel moved himself in front of my knees.

"Oh, no," he said, lifting my chin so I was eye-to-eye with him. "I know this face. This is the 'You're-Doing-Something-That-I'm-Going-To-Pout-About' face. Buffy, what is it?"

"I'm not pouting," I retaliated. "I'm just - contemplating."

"About?"

"You moving away," I answered. He smiled softly and took his hand away from my chin. He brushed the hair away from my face and I looked down again.

"I'm happy, I am," I claimed. "It's just that -- I want to be near you, Angel."

I looked back up at Angel who remained quiet. Perhaps we were moving too fast, or we weren't moving at all and I just took a giant step. I just loved being with him so much, having someone hold me at night, waking up next to him. I didn't want to lose that, if even a little bit.

"I'm not going back," Angel was making sure that that wasn't what I was thinking. I nodded once, but he knew what I meant. He breathed out slowly, then took my hands into his.

"How about this," Angel started, holding my hands to his chest. "We _both_ go looking, and find a place that we like?"

"Do you mean you --" I swallowed as he cut me off by nodding his head. I squeezed his hands and he leaned to kiss me on the cheek. I smiled widely and hugged him.

"Let's go to it, then," Angel said, helping me off the vault. I grinned and wrapped both my arms around one of his and left the training room.

* * *

"So you've worked it out then?" Angel asked. He and I were walking down the street, headed for the Restfield Cemetary. I had been watching our feet, noticing how I walked faster than him because he took long, slow strides and yet, they were in perfect sync. Step by step. 

"Yeah," I answered, looking up at him. "Willow and Tara were happy to stay at the house, and Dawn agreed to stay with them, on one condition."

"Which is?" We turned the corner and crossed the street. I pulled my stake out as we neared the cemetary, tapping it against the palm of my hand.

"We have to visit often, and -" I giggled. "Make her a bridesmaid."

"Ohh," Angel chuckled lightly. "Is she expecting a wedding any time soon?"

"Why not?" I looked at Angel intently. He looked back down on me, a seriousness crossing his face.

"Um," I said, clearing my throat. "No rush, I mean -- it hasn't been _that_ long yet, no need to --"

"I want to, Buffy, but when the time is right," Angel stated and I nodded. I noticed the way his mouth curved slightly while he said it. To me, it meant that we might actually have it - the right time.

"Well, here we are," I gestured with my hand as we paused at the first headstone. Angel stood there a moment, hands in his pockets. I raised a brow at him.

"Ah," Angel recognized the look. "First patrol; gotta do it on your own, right?"

"Right," I softened.

"I'll see you," He looked around once and nodded. He was just turning to walk away when I grabbed the edge of his jacket, pulling him to me. I went up on tiptoe and kissed him.

"See you," I said, smiling. He kissed my forehead as I dropped back down, then walked off. I watched him until he'd crossed the street then went further inside the cemetary. I slipped the stake back into my sleeve and strolled, returning to the care-free, unbidden form of patrol I once had.

As I searched the corners of the cemetary, I lost myself to thinking. I thought about how my life was changing now. Steadily re-arranging in not-so-subtle ways. Strangely, I thought it was growing on a sense of normalcy. For the better. And Angel was here with me, as if the bad years they'd had never happened. Like he'd never left. For the first time, it felt like he was just a man and I was his girl.

I stopped my tangent as I came up the side of the mausoleum, hearing voices behind the wall. I kept out of sight from the doorway and pressed my ear to the wall, trying to listen in on whoever was in there.

"I did not come here to play games, Dimitri," a melodious voice sounded. "Miroslav will not be pleased, _da_?"

"I understand, Mishka," I took it that it was Dimitri's apologetic voice. "But Sasha has not yet located the Slayer."

I should've known. Someone is always after me. Why did I even hope that this would I nice, clean, quick sweep? I moved closer to the door, attempting to hear more.

"Then Sasha will be punished, and you must find the girl. My poor, sweet Miroslav will not be able to rest until he tastes of her blood. Do you not feel sorry for him?"

"Of course, I do, _pani_," Dimitri said. "I will not fail you."

"Good," the voice of Mishka cooed. "_Dubre vechir_, go."

I watched as a figure came through the doorway. It was obviously male and more obviously, a vampire. I stepped out from the wall, placing my hands firmly on my hips to create an authorative stance.

"You must be Dimitri, right?" I said. The vampire turned around to face me, caught off-guard by my voice. I saw him take a whiff of the air and melt into his demon face.

"The Slayer," he growled. "Pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine," I answered back. He responded by running at me, fists swinging wildly. I managed to block most of his attacks, suffering only a couple of blows to the face and stomach. I backed up a pace and kicked him to the ground when he came at me again. I let the stake drop into my hand as Dimitri scrambled to his feet. He roundhoused me into a headstone, and ripped the stake from my hand. He was about to close in when someone called him back.

"Enough!" That mellow, accented voice said. Dimitri backed away, dropping the stake at my feet. I watched him closely until I knew he was not going to attack again. Then I took a look at the owner of the voice. A medium-heighted, small form of a woman took strides until she was next to Dimitri. Her hair was waist-length, full of dark curls and her eyes were the sharpest shade of blue.

"_Divchnya_, what is your name?" She took slow steps towards me, staring directly at me. When she was near enough, I could tell she was not a vampire. She breathed.

"Buffy," I murmured beside myself. Her calmness was entrancing, and almost frightening at the same time.

"So rogue, this _Buffy_," Mishka wrinkled her nose slightly. She drew closer to me, hands behind her back and a near-playful smirk on her lips.

"I will remember this name," Mishka leaned close to me so she could whisper more. "So that Miroslav may use it in a song of victory."

I pushed her roughly away from me then. She stumbled backwards, teetering on her heels and then composed herself. She grabbed Dimitri's arm to stop him from advancing. She gave a final look in my direction and then pulled the vampire to leave. I don't know why I let them; I could've have dusted that Dimitri in an instant. But the woman's cool words freaked me out. And I had no clue who - or _what_ - Miroslav was. I was more than ready to call it a night.

I walked in the opposite direction of my new acquaintances, then made the adjustments for the way home. Why would a vampire run with a human woman? What was up with the Slavic accent? I had too many questions. In the morning, I would go to Giles and hope that he had some idea who these people were and how I could defeat them.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Translations:

_pani _- means "mistress" or "lady"

_dubre vechir _- means "good evening"

_divchnya_ - means "girl"


	7. Forever Yours

Disclaimer: I don't own, but I do have fun with these characters.

Author's Note: This is a very fluffy chapter. Sometimes, fluff is sweet so here is my dose of extra sweetness. Also, the beginning is mainly just to give you some backstory on the new players, and to set up the time frame (which is a year after Angel was made mortal). Sound good? And because of work and school, my mind totally trailed off from the story a bit. So if any of you have any suggestions, please, _please_ give them to me. I like new ideas.

* * *

It had been some months since the incident in the cemetary. I hadn't seen heads nor tails of any of them since. I was never one to lie low, but Giles advised it. At least until he could find more information on the vamps I'd seen that night. Needless to say, someone wanted me dead. And he went by the name of Miroslav.

Giles tells me that Miroslav is a Master vampire from the Ukraine. Years and years ago, he destroyed half the country, looking for a girl. He was merciless, and powerful. The people called him _Miroslav vid Riznya_, which means Miroslav of Massacre. He travelled into Asia, up Russia and across Siberia, looking for this girl. Her name was Maroushka and she was a gypsy-girl with enough power to help Miroslav conquer the world. However, Maroushka was only six years old when he finally found her. The story goes that he kidnapped her from her village to watch her until she grew up and could use her power.

Unfortunately for Miroslav, a seventeen-year-old Maroushka (or Mishka, as he called her) did not want his conquests, but his love. As if that wasn't sick enough, she wanted to be sired, thereby losing her mortal powers and sending Miroslav for a downfall. Giles couldn't find out what her power was, or why it was so important to Miroslav. I told him I didn't care and I would kill them both if I had to, but Giles restrained me. I could tell - even if he didn't say it - he was worried that I would die again. Willow, Tara, Dawn, Xander...they all worried too. What was different about this time than others we they tell me 'Don't go, you'll die' was that I had something that needed me here, _really_ needed. And he went by the name of Angel.

* * *

There was early morning sunlight pouring in from the window and it lit up Angel's skin that had - with time - darkened to a medium tan. I was half-way lying on his back, my chin against his warm flesh. I ran my hand over his smooth, wide back. I lifted my head and placed a couple of kisses on his shoulderblade, then a few along his spine. Softly, I traced the tattoo that resided on the opposite shoulder, fingering the 'A' with care. I felt Angel shuffle mildy underneath, so I leaned up to press my lips to the back of his neck.

"Mm," I felt the vibrato of the sound through him. "You're affectionate today."

"Can't help it," I said, touching my forehead to his head, blushing. "I'm Lovey-Girl. You make me so happy."

"You do, too," Angel murmured. I smiled and kissed his hair, pressing my body against his own.

Angel let out a deep, satisfied breath and I felt out his spine. I laid my head on him, cheek to skin. I put my arm around his waist, feeling so much at peace and so connected with him. I shut my eyes, and just listened to Angel breathe, a steady, deep inhale and slower exhale. His skin smelled like warmth and slightly salty from an earlier sweat. Though our lovemaking was not often, it was highly appreciated and _very_ enjoyable. This time was especially so. Intense, perfect, and the right amount of heaven to bring tears to Angel's eyes.

So many things had happened in a relatively short amount of time. Besides for all the mortal Angel madness, there was the fight to get back into school, and moving to a new place and trying to avoid Miroslav and his Mishka. But that day, Miroslav and his plans for me were the furthest thing on my mind. All I knew was that I was there with Angel, one extraordinary moment.

"This _can't_ get any better," I spoke, nuzzling him and smiling beside myself.

"You think so?" Angel asked in a suspenseful tone of voice. I lifted myself up, a brow raised in curiousity.

"What do you mean?" I asked, pulling a sheet around me. Angel rolled over and sat up. He cocked his head to the side and peered at me, as a puppy would. It was a strange look.

"What?" I cocked my head back at him, laughing lightly. He reached out and touched my cheek, then slid his fingertips down my neck, over my shoulder and down my arm. Which is where I caught him with my hand. I laced our fingers, and pulled his hand towards me until it touched my torso.

"I love you," Angel almost whispered. He looked at me intently, his dark amber eyes reflecting my own emotions. Then he watched as I pulled his hand against me more.

"I love you," I shut my eyes, the three simple words leaving my mouth made me want to drown in Angel's eyes. He moved closer to me, then wrapped his palm around the back of my neck. Holding me still, he brushed his lips over mine. I wanted more as our breath mixed in the air between us.

"Are we ready?" Angel asked me, and I could almost feel the movement of his lips. He threaded his fingers through my hair and I looked at him. I could see a question in eyes, and the answer never skipped a beat.

"For anything," I responded, leaning into his touch. Something like wonder flashed in his eyes briefly before he took his touch away. I went forward, about to reclaim it when I saw him reach for the nightstand. But he had already turned back to me before I could see what he was up to.

"What're you doing?" I asked. Angel only smiled coolly, and wrapped an arm around me. He pulled me into his lap where I settled, an arm around one of his shoulders while his hand massaged my side. He took my hand and kissed it while I leaned against him, still curious about what he'd done.

"Buffy," the sound of his voice grabbed my attention and held it like a choke hold. "There's never been anyone...that made me feel the way you do. Even when I was a vampire, you've always been the one I wanted." He paused and I sat up. "I love you more and more every day. I think - no, I know. There will never be anyone else like you...or anything like _this_ ever again."

I couldn't say a word, I had no clue what _to_ say. He looked up at me and all I could do was pray that he knew that I felt all the things he felt. I swallowed deeply while we stared each other. I reached up to touch his cheek, then followed with my mouth. I kissed him, pouring everything I felt into it. I didn't know what was causing this sudden spillage of hearts, but it felt so right.

When we pulled apart, my breathing was rapid and shallow. My head was spinning and my lips felt numb. Only Angel's kisses made me get this way. I slid my hand down his cheek and into my lap. I was still in the wave of emotions when Angel reached behind him. When he brought his hand back around, he was holding something in his fist. It must've been tiny because his fist was almost flat. I looked at him, questioningly. But he asked first.

"You're the only one for me, so..." Angel opened his hand, revealing a ring. A little golden band with the most perfect circular diamond on top, full of colored facets. The heat started to rise in my cheeks and I could feel a red-hot blush coming on. My mouth opened slightly and I stared at him.

"Will you marry me, Buffy?" He finished. Then took my hand and slipped the ring onto _the_ finger. Words completely escaped me. I closed my mouth and lifted the ring to see it closely, to know that it was _really_ there. Then I looked at me, realizing now the questions in his mind and eye had always been this. And this was it.

"Oh, God - " I felt my lips quivering, feeling the sting of tears well up in my eyes and throat. "Angel..."

I couldn't hold it in, so I dropped my head onto his shoulder. My tears poured out of my eyes and my whole body shivered. He clung to me, trying to soothe me with gentle words and touches. Another wave of emotion: love, shock and true joy. He clung to me, pressing our chests together. His heart was beating almost as fast as mine was. I let go of him slowly, still in the aftershock of the proposal. I turned his head to me, running my thumb across his cheek and taking a deep breath.

"I will," I said simply, trying not to cry again. "I will marry you, Angel."

I thought I saw tears in Angel's eyes too, before he brought me in for another of his intense, passionate kisses. I inhaled him, tightening my fingers in his hair. His arms were comfortably squeezing me, our skin sticking to each other's. We pulled apart with many little smooches, and he was beaming which made me smile incredibly. Angel cradled me in one of his arms while I held his hand with the one his ring was on.

"So," I began, watching our hands as we turned them and fidgeted. "You're ready to be Mr. Summers, then?"

"Yeah," Angel chuckled a little. "But I know it's all I want to be."

"I'm yours, you know," I said, looking up at him. "Forever."

"Good," Angel rocked me against him then we fell back against the bed. I rolled off to one side, draping an arm around Angel's midsection and resting my head on his chest. He toyed with my hair, spinning it around his finger while I drifted off to happy thoughts. There was a point in time when I never thought we would ever be able to really _be_ together and then a lawyer comes along with a miracle. So there we were, Angel and I getting married. Nothing could stop us now.


	8. The Birthday Engagement

Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own the characters. But for now, they're my puppets and must do everything I say. Mwahaha!

Author's Note: Sorry about how very, VERY long this chapter took me. I was tied up in school and work and partying (which is not the healthiest mix, let me tell you) and the story was at the bottom of my list. But hopefully, now, I'm back in the game and ready to spill out a few chapters before my brain goes kaput (or is it caput?). Hope you enjoy this one anyway.

I rummaged through old scripts, my translator book open on the table. Xander was next to me, flipping through the pages of a thick, leather-bound book with an expression of disdain. I glanced over at Willow, plugged into her laptop and typing rapidly. I returned to my scripts, lifting one and turning it over. This wasn't making any sense at all. All this was just crayon drawing on brown paper. Why would a vampire who did as much damage as Miroslav be so hard to research?

Giles came into the living room, bearing a tray of tea and cookies. He set it down in the middle of the table, taking up what little space there was to begin with. We all took a cup and deserted our search for a few minutes.

"Are you guys getting anything?" Xander asked, then getting a mouthful of cookie. " 'Caush all I got ish 'e was a baf, baf man."

"So far, that all I've been able to get too," Willow said, turning down the laptop screen. "Just records of the destruction of Ukraine. They called it wildfires."

"I'm sure we'll be turning up something soon," Giles comforted. "It'll just take time. Buffy, have you gone patrolling yet?"

"Yup," I said with a nod. "The night before. Staked a couple of vamps, but no Miroslav or this Mishka girl. We can't find anything on her either?"

"Nor enough to tell you if and how you can kill her," Willow stated, shaking her head. "We don't know if she's immortal or not."

"She very well may be," Giles set his teacup down and took off his glasses. "Miroslav's crusade was over a hundred years ago."

"This woman looked a little younger than 30," I told them, instantly remembering the woman's face and her velvet voice. "And she definitely had control over the other vampire."

"Well," Xander chimed in. "We've been looking for days now; why don't we take a break and see if Buffy pulls up anything while patrolling?"

I looked at Willow and Giles, who nodded accordingly. I drank the last of my tea and put the cup down.

"That's it, then," Giles said, standing and moving across the room. "We wait."

"Hey," Willow turned to me. "Everything's ready for the dinner tonight."

"Oh yeah," Xander said smoothly. "It's Deadboy's birthday, right? How old is he now? 1000?"

"Xan, you can't keep calling Angel that, he's not dead anymore," Willow defended and I smiled at her. "But - um - he made _a_ small point. Which age are we celebrating here?"

"Twenty-seven," I said, leaning against the sofa. "I couldn't exactly fit 249 candles on the cake."

"Understandable," Willow nodded and I giggled a bit. She grinned and proceeded to unplug her laptop.

"Off for a quick patrol now," I said, standing and grabbing my bag. "Your house at eight o' clock?"

"Sounds good," I hugged Willow goodbye and then Xander. Then I walked over to Giles. I hadn't actually asked him to come to the dinner, but I figured it must be worth a shot.

"Hey, Giles," I started off cooly, adjusting the bag on my shoulder. He never looked up from his book.

"I'll be there," He said distractedly, but he _did_ say it. I replied with an "okay" and left his apartment. Tonight was going to be perfect. Or at least, fun.

LATER

For the second time, I was picking myself back up to my feet. In front of me was Sasha, a tall, thin brown-haired vampire. He carried himself with arrogance, which just proved to piss me off. I grabbed the stake at my side and took position, waiting for his attack.

"You are a brave little girl," Sasha mused, beginning to circle me.

"I'm not a little girl," I growled. "But you're going to be dust."

"I do not think so," he said, taking a pace away from me. I eyed his every move, determined not to be knocked down again. He looked back at me, his empty eyes narrowed.

"I come only to give you warning," he said, catching me off-guard with the use of the word 'warning'. "She will become you."

"What?" I was confused. Confused enough to drop my stance. Sasha took no moment longer in getting away. Shouting, I chased after him, but he had out-ran me. I slowed to a stop when I saw him pass through the cemetary gates. Frustrated, I stuffed my stake back into its hiding place and looked at my watch. It was already almost 8:30; I was late. Kicking myself for letting the vamp get away, and even more so for being late to Angel's first birthday party in over two hundred years, I high-tailed it back home.

I slid in through the backdoor, trying to be as quiet as possible but still quick. I dropped my weapons bag at the door and proceeded to brush myself off. I could hear conversation going on in the living room, along with some soft music. I stipped myself of my jacket and straightened out the rest of my clothes.

"How did it go?" I heard Angel's velvet voice from behind me, and I cringed. I turned around, looking downright guilty.

"Not so good," I tucked my hair behind my ears. "Not even one."

"You'll get 'em next time," Angel encouraged and I smiled a little. He took me into his arms then and kissed my cheek.

"I am so sorry I'm late," He shrugged in response, as if it wasn't a big deal. "Happy birthday, anyway?"

"Thanks," And I kissed his cheek. "You ready?"

"Do I look okay?" I smoothed out my hair again, and inspected my clothes one more time.

"You look perfect," Angel said, laughing. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the kitchen. When we got into the living room, I was surprised at how many people had turned up. There was Xander and Anya, Dawn, Tara and Willow, and Giles. Then there was Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn, and Fred, and a green demon that I didn't recognize. Dawn waved at me and hurried over to give me a hug.

"Is it dinner time, now?" Dawn asked us, almost impatiently. I laughed. Angel nodded. The word spread around and we all filed into the dining room. Willow and Dawn had brought chairs up from the basement and though we all had to squeeze around the table, it was a comfortable squeeze. I sat next to Angel at the head of the table, Giles and Dawn at the other end.

"This is a really nice house, Buffy," Fred complimented, grinning. "You really gave it up?"

"Only to my best friend," I nodded. "She takes real good care of it."

"So where do you and Angel live now?" Cordelia asked me.

"About a mile away," I said, pointing in our house's general direction. "Sometime, you have to come visit us."

"Oh, I'd like that," Fred piped up and I couldn't help but smile. Her cheerful personality was infectious, even onto Cordelia, I could tell.

We passed the dishes around, chatter erupting everywhere. I looked over at Angel, and was surprised that he was having a pleasant chat with Wesley and Xander. Anya and Dawn were talking with the green demon who I had yet to meet. Willow and Gunn were discussing something, and Tara and Giles just seemed happy to take in the atmosphere.

"Buffy?" Angel called my attention and I looked towards him and saw the green demon standing next to him.

"This is Lorne," he said. "Lorne, meet Buffy."

"I've heard a lot about you, sugarplum," Lorne said, grinning and shaking my hand. "Apparently, you're one of the best Slayers ever called. And, if I might add, one of the prettiest."

"Thanks," I said, blushing a little. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too, doll." He grinned again.

After dinner, we moved into the living room with our coffee and champagne (or tea, in the case of Giles and Wesley). Willow helped me bring out Angel's cake, all lit up with twenty-seven candles.

"Happy birthday, dear Angel! Happy birthday to you," we all chorused. I shared a look with Angel before he blew out his candles. Everyone clapped and I sidled over to sit next to him. I wrapped my arms around one of his and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Angel said and I looked up at him, baffled why he'd think anything is wrong.

"Nothing," I said. "It's all perfect."

"It's time, then," he said, and I nodded. He stood up and called everyone's attention.

"Buffy and I," he began when everyone quieted. "have an - um - announcement to make. We're engaged."

Some of our friends gasped, others clapped. Still others were too shocked to do anything. I watched the nervousness disappear from his face as Angel smiled and kissed my hand, turning the engagement ring around that I'd been hiding until now. I stood up, wrapping my arm around his and looked around at our friends.

"See?" Angel said, close to my ear. "I knew it'd be all right."

"Okay, okay," I admitted, relieving myself of the tension I'd been holding. "Can't you just say 'I told you so'?"

" 'Course not," Angel grinned mischeviously. "Much more fun this way."

I elbowed his ribs, and he laughed. Then retorted by just pulling me closer to his side.

"You know," Angel started while conversation erupted against amongst us. "I never thought I'd ever get married. Or make it to twenty-seven, that's a step, too."

"Mm," I sounded, hugging him tight with my cheek to his shoulder and looking up at him. "Then a _very_ Happy Birthday to you, Angel. I'm glad I could make it here with you."

At the end of the night, we said goodnight to them. Fred and Dawn separated, exchanging numbers. Giles walked out with Wesley, discussing their different coaching of demonology. Angel went to see Gunn and Lorne off, along with Xander who had made nice with Angel now. Anya gave me a precarious look that made me giggle as she rolled her eyes and followed after Xander. Cordelia was the last to leave.

"I'm glad you came, Cordelia," I said as she paused next to me, at the door.

"I'm kinda glad I came too," she said with a half-smile. "It almost makes me regret what I said...you know."

"Don't worry about it," I said, letting the warning she gave roll of my back. It wasn't necessary now, it was obvious Angel planned on staying human.

"Maybe I'll get an invite to the wedding?"

"Oh, you will," I assured her with a smile that she returned.

"By the way, Buffy. Congratulations."


	9. Mishka's Dream

Disclaimer: I don't own, blah blah blah. 'Cept for the four select few being: Mishka, Miroslav, Sasha and Dimitri.

Author's Note: I have never actually created my own villains for a story before so this is new territory to me. So I wanted to make them extra-special by creating a certain story about the two biggest baddies: Miroslav and Mishka. Kind of a ironic love-story mirror that of Buffy and Angel's, but without avail. Tell me if you like.

* * *

When Miroslav had stolen me from my people, all I knew was that he was a creature to be feared. I was but a tiny child and he, a monster. I watched, helplessly, as he murdered anyone who tried to reclaim me, spilling my people's blood to quench his thirst. He was a soulless, merciless Master. My only chance of survival what to do what he asked of me and pray that one day I could be free of him.

As time grew on, I watched him become more gentler to me, though always keeping me at an arm's length. He no longer ordered me about, or locked me away. He began speak with me like his equal and tell me of the great things that were to come. I saw more than just a monster, but a being with thoughts, motives, and sometimes, emotion. My infatuation was at first out of fear and admiration, I never knew it could grow so deep.

* * *

I crept into the crypt, pulling down my hood. It was dark, except for a few, lit candles. I draped my cloak over a chair near the entrance, spreading my hands over my dress. It was blue, like my eyes. I fingered the delicate embroidery, remembering the first time I tried it on.

When we were in France, Miroslav had brought it to me. He told me it was royal, a ceremonial gown. He bade me to put it on for him. And I was young and frightened of him and so I did what he told me. I remember how I relished the cool satin against my skin and how it clung to my curvatures, making me feel more like woman than I had ever before.

Miroslav said it was perfect for the girl who would come to rule the world alongside him. At first, I did not believe him. For what could my power achieve him? But worries of my usefulness, or lack of, vanished as Miroslav played music from an old victrola. The sounds filled the beautiful room as he pulled me to him. We danced for what seemed like forever. But when the music died, and I was pushed from his arms, that was when I realized that I had fallen in love with him. Dooming myself for the years thereafter.

Now, I saw his silhouette as he sat in a chair, facing a fire that was ebbing. I reached out and laid my arm over the back of the chair, and looked down as his hand reached for my own. As soon as he had grasped me, a cold chill tingled my nerves. He pulled me in front of him and dropped my hand. I longed to pick his back up.

"You have been watching her," His deep, coarse voice assessed. "Are you learning much?"

"_Da_," I answered with a nod. "But it is not time yet."

"We can wait," Miroslav resigned. "Anything worth the want, must be worth the wait."

"Hmm," I sounded my agreement and we fell to silence. He no longer made eye contact with me, but stared at the fire. I sat at his feet, looking up at him. I admired his strength, his courage, and yes, at times, his coarseness. When you love someone, you love all of the being, there is no compromise.

"Why do you wear the dress?" Miroslav questioned, his eyes never straying from the flames.

"Do you dislike it now?" I asked in return. "It holds memories."

"Memories are for the elders to reclaim their youth," he answered waspishly. "You are too young to hold such material in reverence."

"I hold it in reverence of you," I pleaded. "And for the hope that one day, when I have done all that you ask of me, that you perhaps will do what I ask of you."

"Pah," he nearly spat into the fire, then looked down at the floor at bit. "Hope is weak, it will never amount to anything. Remember this, Mishka."

"Then I shall dream," I retorted despite myself. "I shall dream of that day and perhaps a fairy will come and grant my wish. Does that suit you?"

"Insolent girl!" Miroslav shook his head. "And what is this wish of yours, hmm? Do you want to be a princess and live in a palace by the sea? Would _that_ suit you?"

"No!" I was so close to tears now. "I wish that I could be with you, like you! That this mortal coil will no longer keep your heart from mine. That once - _once_ - you call me your own."

I paused with bated breath. My back was straightened to reveal whatever dominance I could claim, but my tone remained the same: longing, pleading and hopelessly devoted to him. Miroslav furrowed his brows and slowly turned his head to allow his gaze to reach mine. His eyes were intensely dark, and lined with anger.

"Do you wish me to fail?" He said, softly but with great fervent. "To lose your power, along with your mortal coil, and leave me at the Slayer's mercy? And of Dimitri and Sasha, who you claim as comrades? You will be dust on wind like them as soon as you were turned!"

"Please, Miroslav," I cupped his knee, swallowing my pride. "I would never, never leave you to be destroyed. I only want to be closer to you, to understand you. I love --"

"Quiet!" Miroslav's strong hands pinned my arms to my sides, his eyes burning. "What you desire will not be done! Rid yourself of such adolescent fantasies. Is not all that I provide and graciously give to you enough? Do not give into what you _think_ is love. Love blinds you and will destroy you, girl! It is for fairy tales and little people, do not bring it here. Now leave me!"

With that, he threw me from his arms and I landed on my elbows against the cold ground. Tears flooded my eyes and started their way down my flushed cheeks. I picked myself up, and dashed towards the exit. I stopped, picking up my cloak and looking back at Miroslav. He had returned to the position in which I'd seen him in first, staring into the dying fire.

I damned him under my breath as I tossed the cloak over my shoulders, but my heart clung to the hope. The hope that one day he would...that one day I would be loved.

As I rushed away across the graveyard, I saw the Slayer. I backed behind a tree, out of her line of sight and watched. Her keen eyes searched the cemetary, a stake gripped in her hand. Her face was set, and her stride predatory. Then I was surprised to see another figure hastened to her, a man. Almost immediately after seeing him, a smile broke out on her face and her stance softened. Then the man kissed her, and it was obvious they were in love.

"You see, Buffy," I whispered to myself. " You and I are not so unalike. We both want to be loved, and love in return. But you - you have these things, I cannot. You do not appreciate how lucky you are. But I can help you with this. I will take everything you hold dear, and you will learn this way. And perhaps, Miroslav will learn with you."

From that moment, I knew exactly how to make my dream come true. By destroying hers.


	10. The Wedding, Part 1

Disclaimer: See, if Joss owned this story, there would not even BE a wedding chapter!

Author's Note: I'm so happy I made it this far, but I'm sorry that I had to break up the Wedding into two parts. But maybe that'll make it more interesting? I really don't know, that's up to you. Also, I was trying to reverse the atmosphere (Everything seems perfect, but it's not) of the episode "Hell's Bells" for this chapter and make it more: Everything can seem wrong, but it's not. I definitely did not want this chapter to seem like a revision of Anya and Xander's wedding. gulp Let me know how I did.

* * *

This was it. I couldn't believe it was actually happening. I pinched myself all morning, making sure that I was awake. That is, until Giles told me to stop acting like an idiot before I made myself bleed. I was getting married today. But not _just_ married, married to _Angel_. Finally.

Everything just fit into place the last few weeks. All our planning, signing, phone calling, managing (and sometimes arguing) was paying off. But, of course, I was suspicious of anything that went right. So I was double-checking everything: the dress, the food, the time, the invites. I was nearly exhausted by the time Willow shoved us into a room and ordered me to get ready.

"I just need to make sure that Giles doesn't --" I head or the door again, but Willow and Anya stood firmly in front of it, arms crossed and faces set.

"Okay, you guys," I started with a laugh. "You really think that _you_ can stop a Slayer from getting through that door?"

"You wanna try us?" Anya retorted, and her confidence took me aback.

"Okay, okay," I said, backing down and taking a seat in front of the vanity.

"We know you're nervous, Buffy," Willow comforted, putting an arm around my shoulder. "But you gotta chill out or you'll go haywire."

"Nervous?" I blinked. "I'm beyond nervous, I mean this is -- a _huge _step, especially for me and Angel. What if--"

"Ah-ah!" Willow said, clapping a hand over my mouth. "Don't say it! Don't even think it! It'll be perfect, I promise."

Anya pulled my dress out of the garment bag and hung it up. I looked at it with a mix of fear and joy. I cleared my throat and smiled at Willow, who nodded in return. In only 45 minutes, I was going to be walking down the aisle in that dress, and then commited in front of everyone I knew to the man I loved. It was going to be a beautiful day and I was getting the wedding I had always dreamed of. Why not enjoy it?

* * *

"The man is trying my patience!" Giles said angrily to Wesley, ripping off his glasses.

"What's the problem?" Wesley asked tentatively as he watched the older man clean his focals haphazardly.

"He's a complete wanker!" Giles announced, drawing attention from a few of the guests. "He's worrying more about today than the bloody bride!"

"I suggest," Wesley cleared his throat, leading Giles down the hall as to not upset anyone further. "That you remain calm for both Angel _and _Buffy's sakes. You know, they've been a bit on edge today."

"Yes, well," Giles sighed. "They're not the only ones."

Wesley nodded solemnly. He knew that Giles's attachment to Buffy was more "fatherly" than "watcher-ly", even more so now that Buffy requested that _he_ give her away instead of her own father. It was an offer that Giles was eager to accept, but almost saddened to carry out. Wesley put a hand on Giles's shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze.

"What's wrong with Angel?" Anya came flying out of nowhere, startling the Brits.

"Nothing," Wesley was quick to answer. "Why?"

"Because I just overheard Joyce's sister saying something to Dawn," Anya said then narrowed her eyes. "You better be careful. If Buffy hears that one little thing goes wrong, she will put a stake through us all. And personally, I prefer my heart un-stabbed, thanks very much."

Giles and Wesley stared wide-eyed at Anya while she walked off towards Buffy's dressing room. Wesley merely shook his head while Giles replaced his glasses.

"If any of us make it through the ceremony without harm, I'll be surprised," Giles stated and straighted his suit before entering the main hall, muttering, "Bugger."

"So what's the 411?" I drilled Dawn as soon as she'd gotten through the door. I was still quite nervous and my anxiety just seemed to increase by the minute. I was sitting at the vanity, still dressless but Willow was helping me with my hair.

"So far, so good, I suppose," Dawn said. "Except Auntie said that Ang --"

Dawn was immediately cut off by Anya elbowing her side and gesturing a throat-slitting threat.

"What was that?" I searched for Dawn in her mirror.

"Uh, nothing!" Dawn piped up. "Just that, er, Annnng - ry people were - um - few and far between!"

"Why would anyone be angry?" Willow asked, shaking a can of hairspray. Anya eyed Dawn who was quickly trying to think of a response.

"Because," Dawn hesitated. "The - the - the bridesmaids' dresses! They're coral and not -- lavender!"

"What? Do people not like coral?" I tensed and Dawn was shot another look by Anya.

"Oh, no! I mean, yes!" Dawn flushed. "People _love_ coral, people wish they could wear coral _all_ the time. Forget lavender. It's coralicious!"

"Dawnie, could you maybe check on Xander, see how much longer we got?" Willow asked.

"Love to!" And Dawn zipped out the door, faster than the speed of light.

"I think it's safe to say that all the women involved in this are completely bonkers," Xander declared, entering Angel's dressing room.

"What's up?" Gunn asked, peering over at Xander.

"I was just berated by my girlfriend who told me that if she heard anything else that would upset Buffy she would personally castrate me," Xander gulped.

"Something's wrong with Buffy?" Angel whirled around.

"Whoa, hold on there, big guy," Gunn threw an arm out in front of Angel to restrain him. "I bet it's just a little nervous-bride thing, right?"

"Yup," Xander nodded. "Normal stuff. Unless --"

"Unless what?" Angel fixated on Xander.

"Unless you make haste with your groom duties, there won't be a sodding wedding!" Wesley proclaimed, just walking through the door.

"I just wanna make sure that Buffy's --"

"Buffy's fine, I assure you. She's in good hands. Now we have less than fifteen minutes before the ceremony --"

"And you look tore up, man," Gunn stated.

"All right, all right," Angel took a deep breath. "This is it, isn't it?"

"It is," Wesley, Angel's best man answered then proceeded to give Angel a smile and a hug.

My bridesmaids in their coral glory stood back as I gave herself a once over. I ran my hands down the satin full skirt and over the lacy bodice. Gently fingering the veil, I felt like a princess. I smiled as I turned around to face them.

"You look gorgeous," Tara said, grinning.

"I second," Willow piped up and I smiled even wider.

"Thanks you guys," I moved over and pulled everyone into a group hug. "I couldn't have made here without you."

"Angel's gonna _die_ when he sees you," Dawn giggled then fell short as we all took a heavy pause.

"But not in the literal, 'I'm-Going-Grrrr-Again' sense, of course," Anya covered and we all had a laugh.

"Ladies?" Giles knocked before cracking the door open. "It's time to go."

Willow, my maid of honor, took hold of my hands and squeezed, saying, "You're ready for this?"

I breathed out slowly, trying to keep my nerves under control and said, "Always have been."


	11. The Wedding, Part 2

Disclaimer: Um. I don't own, so don't sue. Please?

Author's Note: The second part of the wedding. Ceremonies are incredibly boring so I did not include that part. I hope you don't hate me for it. But I'm sure you can use your own imagination to see how that played out. Also, I will not be writing the reception either, because that's just a bunch of dancing and congratulations and has no real substance for this story. Forgive me, and enjoy.

* * *

Everyone was getting settled into the pews, I could hear the chatter subside as I stood in the doorway of the dressing room. Tara, Dawn and Anya had left to take their spots in the front. Willow had lingered behind with that worried look etched on her fact.

"You'd better go, Willow," Giles told her. She nodded to him and looked at me. I smiled, hoping it reached my eyes. Willow smiled back and handed me my bouquet. Then, though hesistantly, she marched towards the main hall.

Half a million thoughts ran through my head at once. What if this is all just a dream; some crazy, lovesick dream that I've kept through the years? Or, what if Angel and I do get married and by some stroke of horrible luck, he's taken from me again? Or worse, what if he leaves me again? My heart pounded against my ribs and my legs began to shake. I couldn't bear to have Angel break my heart. And you know, third time's the charm and I might not be able to recover this time.

Giles waited patiently for me to move out of the door. I reached out and braced myself against the frame. I fought the urge to break down and cry right then and there. I loved Angel more than life itself, but I couldn't help feeling that something could go terribly wrong at any given moment.

"Buffy?" Giles called my attention. I rose my head to look at him. He took a step towards me and I felt like locking myself in the dressing room.

"We need to be underway," he stated and I gripped the frame a little harder.

"I know," I said barely above a whisper. "But -- I..."

"It's a hard thing, I know," Giles spoke lowly. "But I also know that there was a point in time where you wouldn't let _anything_ get in between you and Angel. Not me, nor your friends, not even your own mother."

I looked up at him, and nodded. This was true, but how can the past help me now? When I'm so close to choosing the path of my future?

"Now," Giles spoke again, now with a more convincing tone. "Haven't you found that not even _death_ can keep you apart? So why in the devil would you let a little walk down an aisle in front of friends and family who, mind you, support you beyond reason, keep you from doing what you desire to do?"

He held out his arm to me then and I nearly fell to tears again. I made sure my cheeks were dry and my eyes clear. Giles pulled the veil over my face as I took his arm. I fixated the bouquet against my torso and remembered what I'd said to Willow not five minutes ago.

"Let's to it, then," Giles said then leaded me down the hallway until we came to the doors of the main hall. I could hear barely a whisper inside, and that comforted me slightly. Giles left my side for a moment to step in front of the open doors, signaling them to start the wedding march. Then he reached out to me and we linked arms again.

We walked down the aisle and I couldn't bring myself to look further than two steps in front of me. Every face turned towards us, with smiles and tears, but overall happiness. I saw Lorne with a huge, toothy grin on his face. Then, Gunn with his date, giving me an encouraging nod. Even Cordelia, smiling brightly.

I saw my bridemaids and then dared myself to look up. Angel stood near the altar, turned slightly towards me. He was beaming and all my anxiety, my fear and second thoughts vanished. All the reassurance I needed was in his face. A steady, gentle smile on his lips and his dark eyes were full of the love I'd never seen this way until now.

Giles led me next to him, and I let go of his arm. I looked up at him; the man who supported me through thick and thin, someone who'd become more dear to me than a Watcher. We embraced and felt so grateful to have him in my life.

"I am so proud of you, Buffy," he whispered as we parted. I nodded and he kissed my cheek, then walked to his seat. I turned to Angel then, and he looked down at me and I couldn't be happier.

It felt like days that we stared, taking in each other's presence and basking in the good feeling neither of us had experienced like this before. He seemed so wonderful to me that I couldn't help but reflect it in my smile. He held out his hand to me and I took it. His hand felt so warm and right around my own, accompanied with the electricity of our excitement and amazement.

In unison, we took the last step toward the altar in front of the pastor. Our eyes never broke from the gaze we shared. Everything faded away except him, and everything that we were soon to have. I threaded my fingers in between his and he squeezed to lock our hands together. In that moment, ceremonies, vows, and witnesses seemed obsolete.

"I love you," I watched Angel's lips form the words.

"I love you," I mouthed back soundlessly.

"Dearly beloved," the pastor spoke to the church. "We are gathered here in the sight of God and in the presence of these witnesses to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony..."


	12. Who Needs A Hero?

Disclaimer: I don't own, because I'm not that cool.

Author's Note: VERY mature-rated chapter, this one. It's very descriptive, and very naughty (I know, I'm a sick puppy). So do not read if you have an issue with sex. Detailed angry sex. If not, have fun with it!

* * *

I walked into the campus cafe, keeping an eye out for Willow or Tara. It was a pretty Spring afternoon, and it'd been a week since Angel and I had been home from our honeymoon. We stayed at a small hotel in Manhattan Beach, right on the shore. It was amazing, and I was still getting used to being in Sunnydale again. And I didn't even want to _think_ about the Hellmouth.

"Buffy!" I heard a familar voice call out. I turned around and there was Willow, standing at the counter, waving me over.

"Hey, Will," I greeted her with a hug and a smile.

"Hey," Willow hugged back. "Did you want a mocha or something? It's on me."

"Sure," I replied, never failing to take someone up on a free mocha. "I'd love one."

Willow placed our orders while I looked for a good place to sit and chat. I decided on a two-seat between a wall and a window, and took my sweater off. Willow joined me soon after, bearing steaming cups of sweet coffee. We climbed into the high-set chairs, made a cheers and sipped at our drinks before conversing.

"So," Willow spoke first. "How was the honeymoon? And don't spare the details, this is all so exciting!"

"Well, um," I tried to figure out a place to begin. "We stayed at the La Royale, right on the beach. It was inexpensive, but oh so worth it. The sand and ocean was wonderful, and the weather was perfect. Although, for the first couple of days, the only outside we saw was out on the patio to get more ice."

"Oh, really?" Willow giggled. "I bet. And what else?"

"Well, Angel took me on long walks down the beach, and we found this cozy little spot on the rocks and watched the sun set. It was gorgeous. Then I'd take into Manhattan beach and we'd go to the nightclubs and drink and dance. That was really fun. It was just nice to spend time with him, alone and away from everything."

"Ohh," Willow had rested her cheek in her palm, a dreamy look in her eye. "That's so romantic. Sounds like you had a great time."

"I did," I said then took another sip of my mocha. "So tell me what's new around here? How did patrolling go?"

"Ah, same old, same old," Willow took a sip, too. "Coupla vamps, me and Xander terrified out of our wits, Giles and Anya arguing, and then of course, Dawn _always_ wants to tag along."

"Sounds like nothing's changed," I laughed.

"Nope, not really. But um, Buffy...we didn't see Miroslav or Mishka or any of the other baddies at all while you were gone. Giles thinks that they might have followed down to MB."

"No," I answered. "We didn't see anybody. There was nothing?"

"Nothing," Willow clarified. "What do you think's up?"

"I think my job just got a little easier, actually," I smirked. "Looks like they gave up."

"Hmm," sounded Willow, unbelievingly. "I don't think we're _that_ scary."

"Willow?" I said, after clearing half my mocha in a single gulp. "You do remember that I'm the _Slayer_, right? We are _supposed_ to be that scary."

Willow then gave me this look that basically said that she understood how fragile my ego could be, but that doesn't mean every bad guy who challenges me was going to run away with its tail between its leg. I turned things to a more desirable subject: college. Hey, not my favorite, but it was better than slaying and honeymoons.

We left each other on a good note. We decided that I would go patrolling tonight to be absolutely sure that Miroslav and his comrades were gone for good and that no one needed to come with me. It was a fair compromise. I waved as she walked towards her next class, and had a slight twinge of guilt.

Although I managed to tell her how great the honeymoon was, and that was the truth, I failed to discuss the fact that the honeymoon was over. By the time we'd driven back home, Angel and I had argued over viciously over three, unimportant things: 1) where I'd work when/if I get a job, 2) why Angel can't support us both, 3) how long we can last on the money we do have. But this was not the real reason why the honeymoon was over. The real reason was the fact that neither of us had ever been married before, and we both were so determined to make it work that we lost sight of why we cared in the first place.

I strolled down the sidewalk toward home. No one was there, of course, and I didn't know whether I'd enjoy the peace and quiet or if I really wanted to be around someone. I felt bad for not letting my best friend help me with this newlywed problem, but what was going to say? That I hated every minute I spend not arguing with Angel more than the minutes that I don't? That dinner time is the most awkward time of them all? That my own husband hasn't touched me since we left Manhattan Beach?

Just thinking it over was making me fume. Deep inside, I knew Angel meant well, but there were some things I needed to do on my own. And he thought he was doing the right thing by giving me space and I knew that if he tried to get closer, I'd only retreat. Sometimes it sucked being a woman and not knowing what you want. Now I understand why wives are so miserable and I've only been married for a month!

Once I was home, I felt exhausted from thinking about the marriage thing so much. I made myself a cup of tea and rested on the couch, staring out the window. How did Angel and I get to such a place? Where which side of the bed you sleep on matters and who gets their shower first? What I failed to remember was that before he was my husband, before he was even my boyfriend, he was my lover. I just needed to be reminded that I was the only one he thought about, the only one he cared for.

Once the sun set, I got up and changed for patrolling. I threw on a tank top, jeans and tennis shoes. I couldn't keep ruining my good clothes by the rough-and-tumble I did in the cemetaries. I tied my hair back in a ponytail, then put on a zip-up hoodie. I grabbed my weapons bag and keys before Angel came home. I wasn't sure if I was ready to face him yet.

I walked to the Restfield cemetary, trying to clear my mind of anything but slaying. As it was, I was doing a horrible job. When I got through the gates, I couldn't help but feel a chill. I half-heartedly wished that I'd waited for Angel to come home so I'd at least have some company. I sat on top on a bench in the middle of the cemetary, dropping my bag in front of me.

I searched the landscape for at least an hour before I realied that there was _no one_ here except me. No demons, fledglings and much less Miroslav and his cohorts. I left my post on the bench, relieved. I could go home now and call Giles and Willow and let them know that they were gone. I walked without apprehension through the graveyard, making sure that there was nothing else for me to do. I let my guard down. An almost fatal mistake.

"Slayer," a cold, deep whisper from behind me. I wheeled around quickly, then a backhanded fist sent me spinning around again. I blinked to clear my eyes of the fogginess of shock and saw Miroslav, poised in front of me.

"We'd thought you'd forgotten about us," he said, hitting me on the other side of the face before I could stand up straight. I cried out a bit in pain, biting back the tears and hurrying to a defensive position.

"How could I? You're so rememberable," I retorted. He swung at me again, his left hook catching my eye. I managed to block that blow, but didn't anticipate the right foot to my stomach. It sent me straight back into a headstone, breaking off the top as I flipped over it onto my front.

Groaning as my back and abdomen ached, I tried to pull myself up. Miroslav definitely had the upper hand here. I caught my breath to grab my stake, just as he took a hold of my hair and pulled me upright. I lunged at his chest with the stake, but he caught my wrist and twisted. At such an angle, I managed to kick him hard in the shin. This proved only to have my face smashed against his knee.

"Buffy!" I heard someone yell as I dropped back to the ground, feeling very sick. I saw Miroslav's booted foot coming toward me again and I braced myself, but the blow never came. I opened my eyes again to see Angel tackle Miroslav to the ground, putting them into a roll of which Angel ended on top. With a vicious right cross, he pounded Miroslav's face.

Miroslav pushed Angel off of him and hit him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. I pushed myself onto my palms, struggling to get to my feet. Angel lifted his leg and kicked Miroslav to the side. I stood up, gripping my stake and began walking towards them. Miroslav obviously saw that he was now outnumbered and struck Angel far enough to let himself escape. I cursed.

"Are you okay?" Angel panted, putting his hand on my shoulder. I was angry that they'd escaped me _again_ so my natural reaction was to push Angel's hand away.

"I'm fine," I spat and backed away a bit. "But why did you let him get away? Matter of fact, why are you even here?"

"Funny, I thought I was saving your life," Angel said, staring me down. I scoffed and he followed me as I charged toward the bench to retrieve my bag.

"Think again," I said, storming me off. He chased me all the way home as we yelled back and forth. Once he shut and locked the door behind him, I spun around to fire on him.

"Did you ever think that maybe I could've handled _on my own_?" I yelled, unzipping my hoodie and tossing it onto a chair.

"Oh, would that have been before or after he was done pounding your face in?" Angel crossed his arms over his chest, fuming.

"Oh!" I growled with disdain. "You are so--"

"You know what your problem is?" Angel hounded me through the kitchen, and then through the living room. "Your ego increased after I was turned human and you forget how many times I continue to save you from having the life beaten out of you!"

"Oh, really?" I said. "_My _ego? What about yours? Ooh, don't get me started on Mr. High And Mighty who thinks that everyone is beneath him."

"Forgive me for saying it, _honey_, but it does take one to know one."

I was half-way up the stairs and turned around to stare him in the eye. Though I was extremely pissed off, I couldn't help notice how - _sexy_ - Angel could look when he was angry. With his muscles tightened, his face taut and the heat he radiated was quite attractive. How could I know he was thinking the same thing about me? I climbed the rest of the stairs backwards.

"Well, I guess it does. But excuse me if I don't need a damn hero!"

"Maybe there's something else you need," Angel cornered me in the hallway and I froze. I saw the flicker of lust in his eyes and inside, I wanted him badly. But I was hardfast and still pissed.

"Like _you_ could give me that?"

That was both the wrong and the right thing to say. We hadn't touched in a while but in a few seconds that was all about to change. Angel growled lowly and pushed me against the wall. I was shocked at first, but not hurt. He closed the space between us as he pulled my hair out of its ponytail and leaned toward my neck. I felt his breath tingling my skin, giving me goosebumps. He dropped his hands to my hips and pushed me further against the wall.

"Stop it," My pleas were weak and faulty. For a moment, he drew back and looked into my eyes. He knew I had no intention of stopping him; and maybe that angered him a little more. With a grip on my hips, he lifted me up the wall and chest-to-chest, he kept me there. His tongue darted out to wet his lips while he stroked my stomach. I moved to kiss him, but he pushed me back. And that made me vexed. Wrapping my legs around him tightly, I grabbed his hair and made him kiss me. His hands left my stomach to touch my legs. He slided them over my knee as I kissed him roughly. They went up my my inner thigh and barely touching my sensitive area through my jeans, I gasped and released him from my kiss.

Angel smirked as if he now had the upper hand and I narrowed my eyes at him. He was infuriating. I ran my hand down his side, past his hip to cup his hardening member. I squeezed lightly and it sprang to life. Angel gasped this time and batted my hand away. I smirked to mock him. He seethed and gripped my hips tightly, holding me still. Then he pushed himself against me, as close as our clothes would allow. The tingly sensation went down to my toes as my body grew more and more excited. I beat my fists on his shoulders, not hard enough to hurt him.

"Do you still want me to stop?" Angel hissed in my ear while my lower stomach continued tighten and my hips wanted to buck towards him, wanting more. I whimpered; I wanted so badly for him to take me right then and there, but I was too stubborn to give in first. He took my whimper as the answer he wanted to hear. He lifted me from the wall and carried me down the hall. He slammed the door of the bedroom behind him and dropped me onto the bed.

"You won't do this," I quipped as he peeled off his shirt along with my shoes. "I won't let you."

"Stop me then," Angel laughed as if I had made a joke. "If you can."

Before I could retaliate, he was taking my tank top off. I propped myself up on my elbows and stared as he pulled my jeans off. He carressed my legs and placed himself between them. He leaned over me and kissed my ear, giving me goosebumps again. His hands lowered the straps of my bra, then came around to undo the back. He dropped it to the floor as he lowered his head. I swallowed as his thumbs circled my nipples, making them tight and sensitive. He kissed it, electrical current sweeping through my nerves. Then he took my breast into his mouth, tasting the soft skin and suckling softly.

I slid off my elbows to lay flat on the bed as Angel consumed my chest. He flicked his tongue over the nipple, making me jump a bit. His hands travelled down to grab hold of my panties while he gave my breasts a final peck. He pulled my panties off then, dropping them near my bra.

Then a hand massaged my inner thigh. I bit my lip, trying not to cry out as he drew closer and closer to my arousal. Angel was frustrated by my refusal and slid down my body. He kissed the skin following the trail of his hand, and I bit harder. The moment his lips touched me, I gripped the sheet. His tongue began to lick at the moist heat, making me clench my teeth which didn't stifle my moan. My long, breathy moan.

Angel lifted his head in victory as I blushed, crimson red. I used a bit of my Slayer strength to grip his sides with my knees and roll us over, turning the tables. If he could do it to me, I could do it to him. He exhaled slowly as he looked up at me, drinking in my naked form. When I leaned to suckle the flesh near his collarbone, the way he lightly stroked my spine with his fingertips gave fuel to my fire. I reached down to the fastening of his pants and pryed them open. He kicked them off, along with his boxers.

I slowly made my way down, keeping my face close to his body. I could feel his eyes on me as went, perhaps confused or excited by actions. I kissed then the tip of his own arousal, glancing up toward him with a mischevious stare. I took him into my mouth, slipping my tongue down the flesh. I felt his hips tense up underneath my hands and his veins thicken. I breathed over him, making him shake a little.

"Buffy...wait," Angel managed to choke out, warning me. I moved back up to meet his lips with my own. We tasted each other in our mouths, kissing one another viciously.

I took one of his hands and intertwined our fingers and used his hand to push me back some. I positioned myself and he wrapped his other arm around my waist. I brought myself down to let him enter me partially and leaned forward as we kissed. Angel then brought his hips up and filled me so suddenly that I tossed my head back to gasp. He grinned as he kissed my throat while I accustomed myself to him.

I pushed him back down and tighted my grip on his hand. I tossed my hair over to one side and placed my other hand on his chest for balance as I pushed myself up and then down again. Once we established a rhythm, I knew I was going to lose myself quick. Angel had this way of pushing me to my limit, which he was exacting in full force although at his submissive position beneath me.

I fingered his lips and he kissed my hand, pulling me back down onto him. I turned my hips a little so he could tap that certain spot, and he did the first try and on the second time, he hit it full-on. I couldn't control it anymore, and I went limp and blinked away the spots in my eyes. Angel bent back up, catching me as I regained full conciousness.

"Ohh, god..." I moaned into his ear while my legs shook. Angel held me close for a moment, feeling out my back and still deliciously inside of me. He turned us over then and I looked in his eye. There was still desire there and I knew the ride was far from over. I moved to kiss him, but he pushed me back down. He put a hand through my hair and tightened into a fist, pulling my head back, but not quite painfully. He kissed me hungrily while he wriggled an arm underneath me. I kissed him back just as needily, wrapping my legs around him to draw him closer.

Angel left my lips as he hooked his hands onto my shoulders. My stomach clenched with anticipation as he pulled back. He pulled down my shoulders quickly, pounding our hips together. My eyes flew open as I gave a startled cry. He bent his head to kiss me, partly to comfort me and partly to shut me up. He repeated this motion, slamming into me over and over. Angel's face was centimeters above mine, bathing me in his hot breath and I moaned and begged until I thought it wasn't going to end. His moans and cries matched mine and I lost it all over again.

When Angel finally released, he collapsed on top of me, panting. His weight was comfortable on my sore body. I tasted his sweat when I kissed his forehead, all the anger in me gone. I could tell his was too, when he smiled at me and rolled off. We climbed under the sheets, silently, our heated passion using up most of our energy. I turned on my side, clearing my throat.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I shut my eyes to let sleep approach. I didn't quite understand what I was apologizing for, if not for everything, but he seemed to get it.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered back, then put his arm around me. I cuddled next to him, my back to his chest and felt his breath steady out.

He finally let me know that I was the one he thought about and the only one he cared for. But also that he would put me back in my place if I tried to undermine his. My hero.


	13. One Down

I heard rustling on the other side of the bed that woke me up. I turned over and reached for Angel, and instead touched something cold and slick. I squealed, fully awake now. I looked up to see Angel, holding back a laugh, but grinning very widely. I looked down; what I'd touched was a leather suitcase.

"Ugh," I moaned. "Did you set me up or something?"

"No, I'm sorry," Angel leaned over as I sat up and kissed me on the forehead. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, yawning.

"What time is it?" I asked, straightening out my mop that usually looked like hair. Angel lifted the clock from the beside table for me. It read 11:38. I blinked while he set it back down. 11:30? Again?

"You've been sleeping in a lot lately," Angel pointed out. "Something up?"

"No, I --" I shook my head. "It's fine."

I guess I didn't realize that for the past week, I'd been exhausted when going to bed. I didn't know why, I was just so tired. And then the stomachaches at random times in the day, not to mention the one right then. I got out of bed, and as soon as I stood up straight, it got worse. I ran to the bathroom and shut the door before falling on my knees in front of the toilet. I gagged and coughed, holding my stomach.

"Buffy?" Angel called, knocking on the door. "Are you okay?"

I sat back for a moment, taking a deep breath. The uneasiness in my tummy was settled for now. "I'm fine!" I called back, then stood up and walked to the sink. I brushed my teeth and splashed cool water on my face. That felt a lot better now.

Angel was waiting outside the door when I came out. He looked worried. I shook my head at him and followed him back into the bedroom. The suitcase sitting on the bed was fully packed and he went to zipping it up. Now I was confused.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"LA," he answered, pulling on a shirt. "I'm just going to check in on AI, see if there's anything I can do. I won't be gone long, about a week."

"Right," I replied, sitting down next to the suitcase. Angel stood close, and smoothed my hair back, still looking slightly worried.

"Maybe I shouldn't go," he said. "You're not feeling good, and this can wait."

"No, no," I said, hugging him around the hips and leaning my head against his stomach. "It's probably just a bug or something. You go."

Angel then moved the suitcase off the bed. "Are you going patrolling tonight?" he asked, I nodded. He reached behind me and pulled the blanket up and put it around my bare shoulders. I held it there and smiled at him.

"Then will you at least take it easy today?" He kissed the top of my head, and I nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, honey," I said as he grabbed his suitcase. "See you."

I heard him walk down the stairs and out the front door. Then I heard the start of the engine and him driving away. I was suddenly tired again. So I scooted over and slept the afternoon away. And when I woke up, I didn't feel sick again.

"Hey Buffy," Willow said while we hit the books. "You don't look so good."

"What do you mean?" I asked, meaning to sound nonchalant, but Willow took it as venom.

"I'm not saying that you look terrible," she stammered. "Because you're very pretty and-and you know that. I'm just saying you look kinda sick. Not ugly sick, just --"

"It's ok, Wil!" I stopped her. "I get you."

"Mm," she looked at me closely. "Are you feeling well?"

"Um, not really," I decided that there was no good reason to lie to her; she would know if I did. "I think I've got a bug or something."

"Ooh, Buffy's sick?" Anya chimed, coming from the kitchen to take a seat next to Xander. "What is it? Pneumonia? Measles? Syphillus?"

"Nothing that serious, An," Xander said, grabbing a mouthful of cookie that Anya had taken in. "But believe me, syphillus is _not_ fun."

"A bug?" Willow grasped my attention again. "Hmm, maybe you should go to the doctor, just to be sure."

"Yes, Buffy," Giles joined the conversation now. "This is a very inopportune time for you to take ill. We need you at full-strength in order to -- uh --"

"Kill Miroslav?" I added, looking at him.

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "As soon as we discover his weakness, we will need you."

"If the guy _has_ any weaknesses," Xander added. "So far, we got nada."

"He's got to have one somewhere," Willow countered. "We've just gotta keep looking."

"Well, that's all I've been doing lately is _looking_," I said, tossing the book I'd barely even looked at onto the table. "I gotta go do something."

"But Buffy --" Willow watched me get up and put on my jacket.

"No, I'm fine," I said. "I'm okay. I'll go patrol and then - and then tomorrow morning, I'll go to the doctor."

"All right," she agreed. "But I'm going with you."

"Oh, me too," Anya sang.

I sighed, "If you must."

After a round of hugs, I left Giles's apartment and headed to the cemetary. I felt only slightly unprepared by the time I'd gotten there. I had no other weapons except for one, single stake. If I lost that, I'd be screwed. I shoved it into my pocket as I searched the landscape. Miroslav would _not _take me by surprise again.

Near the same mausoleum where I had my first encounter with Mishka, I saw Dimitri and Sasha. I hurried behind a tree, hoping that they didn't see me first. I peered around carefully, and strained to hear what they were saying.

"What do we do now, Sasha? Wait?" Dimitri sounded anxious.

"Yes," Sasha, in turn, sounded angry. "We wait. Miroslav has a plan, and you would do well to follow it."

"But we can take her, you know this!" Dimitri growled. "You've grown weak. So has Miroslav."

Dimitri's comment was quickly met by a fierce backhand to the side of his face. He looked like he about to hit Sasha back, but dropped his hand. I adjusted my stance behind the tree, which was a bad idea. I stepped on a twig, and in the awkward quiet between Dimitri and Sasha, the snap was loud. I turned around and pressed myself flush against the trunk, holding my breath.

Sasha and Dimitri looked towards my direction, but they didn't move. I guess they might have thought the sound was some stray animal or something.

"You stay and watch," Sasha ordered. "I must go and tend to Mishka. She has not eaten all day."

"How long before she can perform _skorost lico_?" Dimitri asked.

"It is not time yet," Sasha replied. "She has not had opportunity to study her."

With that, I could hear the footsteps of Sasha leaving. Extremely carefully, I turned to look around the trunk again. Dimitri had his back to me, and Sasha was no where to be seen. I was a little unsure about attacking or not. I was still a little nauseous, but I decided to try my luck anyway.

Being as silent as I could, I walked up behind him, but not too close. Enough room for a quick getaway, if I needed to. So far so good; he didn't turn or anything. Now it was fun-with-words time, "Do you know that I _always_ get the first punch in?"

Dimitri started, and spun around quickly, his face changing instantly. As I expected, his fist came flying before he could recognize who I was. I blocked him with my palm and then my other came went for an uppercut. He stumbled backwards, shaking his head.

"Told you so," I smarted. He growled and came right back at me. I managed to kick him in the side, but he grabbed my leg and pushed me. I fell on my back, but I rolled before his foot connected. I stood up, and swung at him. He stopped me with his forearm and delivered a right cross into my eye. I cried out, the stinging affecting my vision for a moment. That hurt.

I twisted his arm around mine and pinned it against him, and punched the side of his face repeatedly. Then I brought my knee up against the small of his back, hitting his spine effectively. He fell on his hands and knees to the ground, and while he was still stunned, I pulled out my stake.

Dimitri recovered a little sooner than I expected. He grabbed my legs and brought me down. I kept a firm hold on the stake as I tried to kick myself free. In one of my flails, my knee hit his nose, giving me just enough leeway to aim my stake. But as I was leaning forward, he collided his head against mine, knocking me back and the stake out of my hand.

I could've panicked as I saw the stake to far for me to reach. Dimitri climbed over me, but I used my energy to roll us toward the stake. The punches rolled one after the other until I felt the wood under my back. It was in a spot where I couldn't reach, like the itch you can't scratch. He grabbed my shirt, tearing it some and lifted towards him.

I struggled against him, fear spreading through me. His teeth were bared and his eyes wild with hunger. I couldn't go down like this, I _wouldn't_. Finally, I managed to get one of my arms free. I reached underneath me and grabbed the stake. At the last minute, I shoved the point through his chest, and hit the heart. I coughed and choked on Dimitri's dust, standing up quickly and brushing his remains off of me.

"One down," I said quietly, shaking myself off. I hurried out of the cemetary because I didn't want anyone to find me and Dimitri gone. One slay was good enough. I didn't even notice Mishka standing by the mausoleum. She'd watched what happened very closely. And she'd taken note of what I can do. This was only the beginning.


	14. An Heir For Us

Disclaimer: Credit for such wonderful characters goes to the one and only Joss Whedon. But, I do own the plot.

Author's Note: So, as you probably gathered for the previous chapter, Buffy _is _indeed pregnant. I think I'm getting somewhere with this story. Yippee!

* * *

Willow, Anya and I were sitting in the waiting room at the local Sunnydale health clinic. The paperwork blew my mind, it was all so personal. _Do you have any insurance? Do you or any one in your family have chronic or mental illness? Have you experienced any injuries in the past six months? _Okay, maybe not _that _personal, but the fact still remains that I am the Slayer, and being too honest might raise some questions.

I looked to the left and right of me. Willow looked distracted, as if reading a business magazine was going to prepare her for bad news. Anya, however, looked almost excited. She sat up straight, watching the door. I tried to remain indifferent, though inside I was freaking out. What if I was sick? What if I had some terminal illness and had six months to live? I fidgeted.

"Buffy Summers?" the three of us, looked at the nurse who called. We walked towards her and she lead us into the back. Although, it was certainly not as bad as a hospital, the clinic was still a little unnerving. White walls, quiet or silent rooms, and an odd smell of alcohol and children. The nurse directed me onto a scale to take my weight and height, and immediately I was self-concious.

"I heard that scales hear are always five pounds too heavy," Willow whispered to me while we followed the nurse to the room. I nodded, comforted for a moment. I sat down on the table, and the nurse did things that happened in a regular checkup. Checking my blood pressure, reflexes, eyes and ears.

"The doctor will see you in a moment," The nurse announced before she left. I tried to relax, but it just wasn't going to happen.

"Is it too late to back out?" I said aloud. Anya giggled.

"Yeah, it kinda is, Buffy," Willow answered my hypothetical question. "Besides don't you want to figure out what's wrong?"

"I guess," I said dejectedly. The doctor came shortly. She was a short, middle-aged woman with a bright, round face.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Jules," she said, sitting down on the round, spinning chair. "I take it you're Mrs. Summers?"

I nodded, and she added, "These must be your friends."

"Yeah, I'm Anya," then Anya pointed to Willow. "And this is Willow. We're very concerned for Buffy. She might be deathly ill."

Anya had a way of saying things that just made people feel worse. Willow reddened, and nervously cleared her throat. But Dr. Jules merely laughed it off.

"I'm sure she's not that bad off," she said then turned to me. "So why don't you begin by telling us how you've been feeling."

"Well, I --" I looked down at her. "I've been sleeping in a lot later than I usually do because when I go to bed at night, I'm super tired."

"Are you physically active right before you go to sleep?" I nodded, and she marked something down on the chart. "Go on."

"I, um. I've been getting really sick lately, like nauseated."

"Well, it says here that you don't take any medications, so -" Dr. Jules paused, looking over my chart. "Do you have any headaches or any kind of pain anywhere?"

I looked at Willow and Anya, confused and slightly embarrassed. "I've kinda had some. My breasts, they're slightly sensitive."

Anya giggled like a little girl, but Willow gave her a dark look and she stopped immediately. Dr. Jules thanked me for my information and asked if it was okay to take a blood sample. I agreed, however hesitantly. I did not like needles _at all_. It hurt for a moment, but I didn't dare look. Vampires' dust, demon guts, I could totally handle. But something about my own blood being taken out through a needle made me cringe.

The three of us were mostly quiet while we waited for the results of my blood test. Willow tried to lighten the atmosphere by talking about the new shipment at the Magic Box. But since I had no interest in old, archive books and Anya only cared about the revenue that they brought in, that conversation died quickly.

Sooner than I expected, even though it seemed like hours. Dr. Jules came back in, seeming as happy as when she'd left. This, I assumed, meant that I _wasn't_ going to die in six months, but I was still a little apprehensive about what exactly she was going to say.

"Well, Buffy," Dr. Jules began. "We tested for all the common ills and viruses, such as influenza and things like that. And it turns out that you're not sick at all."

"Well, that's great!" Willow said, grinning.

"Then what's the bad news?" I countered Willow's joyfulness. There was almost always bad news.

"That just depends on your perspective," Dr. Jules answered. "Although you don't have a virus, we do a standard pregnancy test. You had a positive result."

"Buffy's pregnant?" Willow asked, shocked.

"Yes," Dr. Jules smiled. "It would seem so. And that would explain the nausea, headaches and the sensitivity."

I was too surprised for words at the moment. Pregnant? I couldn't believe it. I mean, there was no doubt it was possible and probable, but it was still so...again, surprising. Dr. Jules asked me if I was okay, and I nodded a yes. I mean, I guess so. I just didn't expect this. I was going to have a baby. For one, I didn't think that my being the Slayer would actually allow for this to happen. And for two, I didn't really think of myself - Buffy - as being a mother.

"I'm going to refer you to an OB-GYN, so you can start some checkups right away," Dr. Jules said, standing. "And congratulations, Mrs. Summers."

"Thank you," I said as she left. I looked at Anya and Willow. The former had a confused, almost amazed look on her face. Whereas the latter was blank, like she was still trying to process it.

"Well, I guess that's it then," Willow said, shaking herself out of la-la land. "Are you okay with this, Buffy?"

"Yeah - um," I hopped off the table. "Sure. But, maybe we shouldn't tell anybody else just yet. I should probably talk to Angel first."

"Oh, my god! I didn't even -- he'll be pretty excited, having a baby and all."

"You think so?" I wasn't so sure. Angel was kind of an enigma when it came to things like that. But he never said that he _wouldn't_ want children. I picked up my recommendation at the desk before we left the clinic. I had a week to think about things on my own. About what it meant to have a child, how that would affect things and if I even wanted a child.

* * *

During the week, Willow made me avoid patrolling at all costs. So, in the evenings that I _could've_ been out there, finding out what Miroslav wants and taking out another of his comrades, I was stuck inside Giles's apartment, pretending to care about research.

So far, we were at square one and a half. I told Giles about that thing that Mishka was supposed to perform, but he hasn't been able to translate the word or words, if it was a word at all. This running around in circles was frustrating, so I became more and more anxious for Angel to come home so I could get this pregnancy off my chest, and hopefully, get back to what I do best.

Now, I knew that nothing now could be like it was. I was having a baby, and that meant I had to be careful. I even invested in a book for first-time mothers that described everything I was and will be going through. But I figured until I started to expand and began to lose balance, coordination and agility, I could still slay. Besides, I was very strong, so my baby would be well protected.

I was actually at home, reading a section of my new book that explained how the fetus grows into a baby during the 'gestation' period. Like gestation wasn't hard enough to swallow, they had to throw in pictures. Flipping to a part about birthing techniques, I nibbled on some saltine crackers. Then I heard the car pull into the driveway. I stuffed the book behind a cushion on the couch, and turned on the tv, trying to appear as normal as possible.

"Hey," I greeted Angel as he came through the door.

"Hey," Angel took off his coat and I stood up to walk over to him.

"How'd it go?" I asked, not before planting a kiss on his cheek.

"All right," Angel said, tossing the keys onto a nearby table. "Nothing too out of the ordinary; they barely needed me there. How are you?"

"Good, good," I replied. I just then realized that this might be harder than I'd played it out in my head. Why did it always sound so much cooler in my head than it does coming out of my mouth? I rocked on my heels and Angel gave me an appraising look.

"What's up?" He asked as I stuffed my hands into my pockets. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing!" I answered, perhaps a little too quickly, and Angel didn't fail to notice. "Well, nothing's _wrong_ really, just um."

"Come out with it, Buffy. What is it?"

"Well, you know how you and I, we sometimes --" I cleared my throat, but Angel missed the hint. "Uh, you know that when two people love each other and when they're ready -- well, I guess it can happen before, but I..."

Okay, beyond nervous now. Angel was looking at me like I'd just given him a riddle, then he laughed, "Buffy, just say it."

"Just say it?" What, is he crazy? But then, he did have a point. I mean, it was _Angel_, and it wasn't like it wasn't his. I was acting like I'd just killed someone's cat. "Okay, you're right. There is no easy way around this, so I'm just gonna...Angel, I'm pregnant."

Oh, god. There was that weird silence that follows big news and seems to last five years. Angel and I just looked at each other. I'd stopped rocking, because I wasn't even sure if I could move at the moment without falling over. I couldn't read Angel's face, not that it was blank. He had the furrowed brow thing going on that could mean three things: bewildered, concerned, or pissed off. Pins and needles now.

"You..you're pregnant?" He echoed. "Really?"

"Yeah, I went to the doctor's and everything," I answered. "Turns out I wasn't sick at all."

All of a sudden, I was being picked up into a very strong hug and spun around. I put my arms around Angel's neck and held on. Color me confused because this was not the reaction I was expecting.

"That's great!" He stopping spinning me around and kissed me.

"Wait, what do you mean?" I pushed him back for a moment. "It's great that I'm pregnant? Or it's great that I'm not sick?"

"That you're pregnant!" Angel had a smile that I hadn't seen in a while, a very proud one. "Buffy, this is good."

"Yeah," I said, his enthusiasm was infectious. "It is."

For a moment or two, Angel didn't want to put me down and I was on the receiving end of many, many happy kisses. When he finally calmed down, we talked. We spent the rest of the night discussing having a child. I showed him my book, and he promised to help in any way possible. We talked for so long actually, that I fell asleep on the couch with him. I had a new outlook on being a parent that Angel shared with me. He told me that despite all the hard work and responsibility, it would be worth it to have someone completely ours and something to carry us on after we're gone.

"They'll mean the world to us," I heard him say before I fell asleep. "You'll see."


	15. Prodding And Probing

Disclaimer: Blah, blah and more blah.

Author's Note: I'm feeling up for a little more action, so I'm writing this. Sorry if it sucks a little. And I thought I'd let you know that sadly, we are getting closer to the end of this story. But not too close, so don't worry yet! Please, enjoy.

* * *

The plan was to capture and restrain one of Miroslav's comrades. Giles and the rest of the research group were still clueless about his great plan, so we were desperate for information. I'd already destroyed Dimitri, so our aim was to get Sasha. Giles said that he wished that I hadn't been so rash about killing Dimitri. I told him that if I just kept on slaying, we wouldn't have to worry about Miroslav's plans at all. He failed to see my reasoning. 

So here we were. I stood by the infamous mausoleum, while Willow and Xander hid in within safe distance. Angel was not too happy about our plan, but he didn't stop me. I'd have to remember to thank him for that later. He waited at the old house with Giles and Dawn. The latter begged me for ten minutes straight to come with us, but being unsure of how this capture thing was going to work out, I refused. But, behind Giles's back of course, I did tell her she could sit in on the interrogation.

We'd been waiting for a half an hour at least. I looked to where the guys were hiding. Xander was behind the very same tree where I hid when I found Dimitri, he was equipped with rope and a stake (just in case). Willow, our witchly firepower, was crouched behind a large headstone, ready to jump out at any time.

Then I heard footsteps. I turned to see who it was, and then Sasha appeared. It was perfect. He didn't notice me, not yet. I wondered for a moment where he was going, and where was he was coming from. He was walking fast with a look of purpose on his face. When he got to the far wall of mausoleum, I made my presence known.

"For a minute, I thought no one was going to show up," I said, stepping out of the shadows and clearly catching the vampire off-guard. "I thought this was supposed to be a party."

"Slayer," he hissed. I put myself in a defensive position, and said, "You know, I do have a name. It's Buffy."

As I expected, he growled and charged at me. I deflected one of his blows, catching his arm and throwing him over my shoulder. I pinned him with my knee against his throat while avoiding his legs.

"_Now!_" I signaled to Xander and Willow, and they came running. Willow, in the lead, yelled out, "_Subsisto, ego narro, subsisto!_"

Suddenly, Sasha froze underneath me. His head moved, but his legs stopped kicking and I let go of his arms. I stood up and Xander bounded towards us.

"Hurry, Xander, it won't hold him for long," Willow informed as Xander flipped Sasha over and began to bind his arms.

"What is this, Slayer?" Sasha demanded, though slightly muffled through the grass. "You dare use witchcraft on me?"

"Yep," I said, flipping him back over when Xander was finished. "I dare."

"Okay..." Willow knelt down beside him, and pulled a little vial from her pocket. She opened it and sprinkled out a sparkly, blue powder onto his eyelids and in his nose.

"_Quiesco nunc, profundus quiesco nunc_," she chanted, holding her hand over his face. Sasha's protests quickly became mumbled until he went unconcious. "We have about an hour before he wakes up again."

"Good job, Will," I praised, grabbing the rope that tied up Sasha's arms. "And thank you, Xander. Let's get this creep home before anyone else shows up."

I pulled the vampire's limp body up, and Xander grabbed him around the legs so we could carry him off.

An hour later, I heard Sasha groaning from downstairs, so I lead the troupe down into the basement. The vampire was unhappily chained to the wall, but he fought desperately against his restraints. I stood in front of him, my arms crossed about my chest. He looked up with venom in his eyes.

"Have a good nap?" I quipped, but he didn't respond. He merely grabbed his chains and pulled. It wasn't any use though, and he quickly gave up.

"Now, seeing as you've figured out there's no way outta here," I continued. "How about you tell me about Miroslav."

"I will say nothing!" He growled, staring me down. I looked over my shoulder at Giles, and he nodded, giving me silent permission. I took a backhanded fist and struck him across the face. Sasha hung his head for a moment, obviously hurt.

"Wanna try again?" I pried.

"Slayer," he _laughed_, like I was a clown or something. "You will kill me first before I say anything."

"No, actually," I dared to get a little closer and I dropped my voice. "I'll kill you anyway, but only _after_ you tell me what I need to know."

Then, Sasha actually _spat_ in front of my feet. I was just grossed out, but apparently that was a signal of utter loathing where he was from. I delivered a hit into his stomach, throwing him back against the wall. Then I kicked his shin, dropping him to one knee.

"I've got worse things than that if you don't talk," I threatened. "What's it going to be?"

Sasha merely turned his head and refused to answer. I stood there, taken aback for a moment. Who in the hell did this guy think he was? I toyed with the thought of staking him right then and there, but thought the better of it. I huffed and turned around and walked up to where Giles, Willow and Angel were standing.

"He's not gonna talk," I broke the bad news.

"He will," Angel offered. "You just need to convince him some more."

"Are you really gonna kill him anyway?" Willow asked, I confirmed. "Well, that's not really incentive to tell us anything, you know."

"No," Giles spoke, looking over my shoulder at Sasha. "I don't think that he thinks you truly plan on destroying him. _That_ is what is keeping him silent."

"So, you're saying that he's not talking because he has this idea that he can escape?" Angel looked slightly puzzled, and I'd admit that I was too. But then again, Giles' logic was always just a little over-my-headish.

"Yes," Giles took down his glasses, like usual. "If he says anything, it is probable that Miroslave would punish - or kill him - for giving the secret anyway. As long as he has a chance of survival, he'll remain quiet."

"So what should I do?" I sighed, crossing my arms.

"You're going to have to convince him that we _do_ mean to destroy him," Giles answered, then kicked my weapons bag over to me.

"How?" I looked down at my weapons bag blankly. "I don't know how to torture people, Giles. Usually, I hit 'em once and they spill!"

"Hmm," Giles thought for a moment, then looked at Angel thoughtfully. "Perhaps you can be of some assistance?"

"Uh," Angel began. I stared at Angel, shellshocked. I knew that he knew _exactly_ how to get what he wanted out of people, but it was still sort of strange to ask his help. I mean, he was my husband and all. He looked at me, silently asking for my approval. We were desperate for info, so I picked up my bag, giving him the approval he wanted. "Sure."

When we turned to walk back to Sasha, I saw my little sister. She sat with Tara and Anya, not too far away from Giles and Willow. The way they stared wide-eyed at Angel and me like we were some interesting movie, I thought they should've had popcorn.

I passed on the bag to Angel when we reached Sasha. He looked up at Angel with a flash of fear in his eyes, which satisfied me for the time being. Angel opened the bag and sifted through my things while I prepped Sasha.

"We decided since you won't say anything," I told him, placing my hands on my hips. "That you needed a little help. I'd like you to meet my husband, Angel. He's not as nice as I am, trust me."

"You think your mind games are going to be of use?" Sasha snickered, a bad choice on his part. Angel stood up, and promptly attacked Sasha's face with a cross. He cried out loudly, shutting his quickly and turning away. I swear I could feel the girls behind me jump.

"Yup," I said, sharing Angel's smirk. "I think so."

Within the hour, we made full use of my weapons and Angel's brute force. Now, Sasha hung there, exhausted and weak. Half of his face was comprised of several bruises and cuts, blood seeping from his nose and mouth. His torn-open shirt revealed a fair few sores, caused by drops of holy water. Needless to say, he talked.

He explained the history of Miroslav and how he got Mishka. Twenty-two years ago, after he'd torn apart Russia, Miroslav found a village in Eastern Siberia. They were poor people, living in the wilderness the best they could. There was a gypsy clan, the Triabirovs, that had descended from a powerful, ancient clan that had its roots in Ukraine. Miroslav attacked the clan, determined to find the prophecised child.

It was a girl, barely five years old, named Maroushka. The prophecy said that the child would have the face of a chameleon, the power of the night star, and the innocence of a babe. Miroslav knew this girl could be a great asset, though when he captured her, he did not yet have a design. They, Miroslav, Sasha and Dimitri, killed the Triabirov clan along with the villagers and set fire to the village, removing Maroushka's home from existence. Then, Miroslav claimed the child, renaming her Mishka.

Sasha also mentioned that Miroslav was ever so angered when he'd found out that I killed Dimitri. He was the one who formed a portion of the design, which was to kill me in order to control the Hellmouth. Dimitri, the youngest of the three comrades, was the connection to modern day. They would have to rely on Mishka's loyalty now. Then, shock of shocks, he admitted that they had lost to me and my fellows, and that Miroslav now desired to leave. He did not say where or for how long.

At the end of the interrogation, we secured Sasha to the wall. Giles felt as if he was keeping something from us (such as the location of their hideout, and Mishka's power, maybe), and bade us not to kill him until we found out what it was. Tara and Dawn were worried about sleeping that night with the vampire just in basement, so Willow and Tara magically trapped Sasha with a circle, and Xander offered to stay the night.

* * *

No one remained at the house during the day, because Dawn, Willow, and Tara had school, and Xander had to go to work. To everyone's horror, when we all returned the next afternoon, Sasha _had_ managed to escape. Willow told us that the only way Sasha could have gotten out of the circle was with someone's help. Since it was done in the daytime, we figured it must've been Mishka. 

"You should've let me kill him!" I rounded on Giles. I was enraged that he'd actually gotten away.

"Maybe they've left," Dawn said. "Like Sasha said they would. You won, Buffy."

I wasn't sure if I fully believed her or not. Something that just told me that I'd only won the battle, but not the war. Miroslav had rampaged Ukraine and Russia just to find one little girl, so I didn't really believe that he'd give up that easily if he meant to kill me.

"But maybe it's not over," Tara said quietly, not knowing how right she was. "They might come back. We should stay alert."


	16. Not Short Of A Miracle

Disclaimer: If Joss wrote this, his cool factor would be through the roof in my book. But he didn't, so I have to say that any un-original character of mine belongs to him. The rest is all me.

Author's Note: We got a little bit of a time jump again, but here's where the good stuff starts happening. We've pretty much got a snowball effect until the end, which I hope glues you to your seat. If not, then I'm not doing my job and you should fire me. Sidenote: this chapter is possibly the most exciting one so far! Again I say, _possibly_.

* * *

We didn't see heads nor tails of Miroslav, Sasha or Mishka for a long while. It gave us time to relax and regroup, and gave my friends the time they needed to fully research what Sasha said. So far, all that he told us was true. There was an _old_ prophecy about a gypsy child, and we already knew the destruction Miroslav caused to get her. We still had yet to discover Mishka's coveted power, however. Giles was trying to break the code of the prophecy, coming up with little or no answers. 

Meanwhile, Angel and I were preparing for our baby. We'd set up the spare room in our house for a nursery. So far, we'd only been able to put up a crib, a chair and wallpaper, which happened to be something called "Celestial Baby". It was cute, with its grinning stars and infants sleeping on crescent moons. Also, I was starting to show just about out of my first trimester. It was just a bit of roundness, up to my bellybutton.

The news of the pregnancy to our friends was easy, to say the least. It seemed like _everyone_ was happy to hear it. Even Giles, although he did sit me down and told me all about the dangers of a Slayer having a child (although I already knew them, I listened anyway). Angel then threw me for a loop; he asked Giles to be the baby's godfather. He accepted, though a bit flustered, but undoubtedly grateful.

Tonight was going to be the last patrol for a while. We figured that after six weeks, if no one was going to be there tonight, they probably weren't here. The downside to telling everyone I was pregnant: I had to have an entourage escort me to the cemetary. At first, Willow and Xander said that they would take over patrolling, but Angel insisted (for me) that I was fine and I could handle it. Did I mention he also tagged along?

* * *

"Can we not leave, master?" Mishka begged Miroslav. The Slayer came tonight to end them, and she knew the girl's weakness. After watching her for a while, Mishka began to notice that the Slayer had grown a bit around the middle. The only explanation was that she was with child. Though Mishka's loyalty to Miroslav could not questioned, the woman in her did not want to see _any_ child harmed, no matter who the mother.

"No!" Miroslav threw on a cloak, then faced the girl with angry eyes. "Dimitri must be avenged! Have you no remorse for him?"

"_Da_, of course, I do!" Mishka felt her eyes water with thoughts of him. "Yet I bid you not to harm the Slayer, not -"

"What is this?!" Miroslav roared and grabbed Mishka by the throat, flinging her against a wall. "Do not harm the _Slayer_? Have you lost your mind?"

"No!" Mishka strained against the pressure on her throat, grabbing his wrist. "She is with child, my lord! We can use it to our advantage, I am sure of it."

After a beat, Miroslav let go of the girl. She fell to the floor, feeling out her neck and coughing. He mused for a moment. He turned to Sasha, who held an appraising gaze. The Slayer's child may be powerful of its own accord, born into the world blessed from a supernatural mother. And with Angelus' loyalty and his own desire of destruction, Miroslav could become very important indeed.

"Shall we go, my lord?" Sasha asked him quietly. Miroslav looked to Mishka, who still sat crumpled upon the floor. Her eyes were wide with pleading, but no decision had been made in Miroslav's mind. He left briskly, Sasha tailing behind him.

* * *

Nothing short of a miracle saved me and my baby that night. No one could've anticipated what was going to happen while Angel, Willow, Xander and I scouted the cemetary. We were just unprepared, which might've been considered reckless.

"There they are," Angel whispered to me, and I looked in the direction he was watching. I saw Miroslav and Sasha, headed straight for us. I turned to Xander and Willow; they gripped their crucifixes and stakes and gave me a nod.

"Here we go," I said quietly, making sure my own stake was secured in my pocket.

"Not alone tonight, I see," Miroslav said to me as they neared. Sasha had a smirk on his face that made me slightly nervous.

"Neither are you," I replied. Miroslav looked me over and smiled. Instinctively, I put a hand over my growing tummy.

"You should not have come," he said. "Why do you insist on fighting what is meant to be? I will give you a chance. Leave now, and you may live in peace."

"Don't listen to him," Willow backed me up. "He's just scared."

I looked up at the determination on my husband's face, and it solidified me. "Let's just get this over with, alright?"

"As you wish."

Suddenly, Sasha lunged at me. He was not as quick as Angel though, who brought him to the ground. I moved into a defensive position, ready for Miroslav. Willow and Xander came up beside me as Miroslav abandoned his cloak.

"Look," Xander said, gesturing past the vampire in front of us. There was Mishka, watching us from a distance. I nodded.

Miroslav charged on me, but I was ready for it. I stopped him with a kick to the chest, then I was struck with a fist to the face. Xander caught me before I toppled over and when Miroslav advanced again, I flipped him over my shoulder. Willow and Xander took over from there and I went straight for Mishka.

There was a twinge of fear in her eyes that I hadn't seen before. But she lost it when I punched her into a tree. She threw her head back, flinging her hair from her face and stared at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked coldly. "You don't look too happy to see me, _Maroushka_."

At first, she looked puzzled by the name. Then as the realization set in, she growled, "You have no right to call me by that name, _Buffy_."

"Do you really prefer Mishka?" I began to taunt. "Is it a slave name? Or worse, a whore's nickname?"

Anger flashed in her face as she dove for me. Her fist connected with my eye and her foot to the back of my leg, knocking me onto one knee. She gripped my hair painfully, saying, "You know nothing of me, _nothing_!"

"I know that all you really want is to be a vampire like your precious Master, or in effect, _dead_," I shoved my elbow into her stomach, and twisted her arm out of my hair. "And you know what, I can help with that."

"You kill me, you kill yourself," Mishka backfired as she blocked my throws, grabbing my arms then headbutting me. I stumbled backwards, trying to catch my balance.

"How exactly does that work out?" I advanced on her again, repaying her headbutt with one of my own.

"Miroslav will kill you," she touched her head and winced in pain. "But not before he steals your child."

"What?" I paused, shocked. How did they know I was pregnant? Or the better question: why the hell did they want my child?

"Yes, Buffy," she whispered dangerously. "He will take your child from you, turn your lover against you and then destroy you. He wants Dimitri avenged."

"Dimitri doesn't mean a damn thing to him, and you know it!" I wasn't sure where this fact had come from, but Mishka looked as if she'd just been slapped. "And you don't either! All he cares about is the Hellmouth, Mishka. Don't you get it? He will _never_ be with you, no matter what you do."

"Then I will take _him_ from _you_, as well." _Angel_. I turned to see what was happening to him and he was engrossed in a fight with Miroslav now. Mishka must have been looking too, because simultaneously, we cried, "No!"

I took off running towards him. I saw Xander warding off Sasha, Willow laid unconcious nearby. I focused my energy on getting Miroslav away from Angel. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to him. I felt Mishka tailing me closely, probably intent on getting Angel away from Miroslav.

I dealt a kick to Miroslav's head, effectively knocking him back. Angel gave me a look that clearly said 'Don't', but I shook my head. Mishka grabbed Miroslav's arm and tried to pull him away. He growled, and struck the girl viciously; she didn't get up from the ground.

"What did the girl tell you, Slayer?" Miroslav turned on me. I protectively stood my ground in front of Angel, despite his attempts to push me aside.

"Enough," I answered. Before I could blink, Angel had jumped in front of me and hit Miroslav. And also before I could move Angel out of the way, Miroslav delivered a three-hitter that disabled him. I gasped, watching him fall to the ground and I hesitated moving on Miroslav.

This left me open for a backhand that sent me reeling. I blocked his next shot, but he brought his fist into my stomach. Pain shot through my lower back and down my legs; I couldn't catch my breath. I gripped my stomach, getting dizzy.

"Did she tell you that you will die?" He closed the space between us, and pounded my face. I fell to the ground and and tried to crawl away backwards. He stamped on my leg and kicked my chest. I dropped.

"And did she tell you that when you are gone, I will bring Angelus into the fold." No. Not my Angel. He put his fist down into my stomach again, and I screamed out in pain, "Yes, it hurts, does it not? Unfortunately, the child will die before you. Pity. The child of a Slayer must be a miracle indeed."

I felt tears flowing down my cheeks. My lower body was completely numb, but my womb felt like it was on fire. I was getting more and more dizzy, disoriented. I started giving into the pain, because all my thoughts were focused on Angel and our baby. If they died, I truly wished to die along with them. I couldn't fight anymore.

Miroslav laughed heartily, like someone who's just won a very difficult game. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled, and I failed to claw at his hands. His face was vampirely distorted, his fangs gleaming before my eyes. His leg came down across me, and slowly, his knee applied pressure on my stomach. He pushed harder and harder, and I could practically _hear_ and literally _feel_ my baby dying.

The only thing I could do then was close my eyes and let the darkness take me.


	17. Coming Back

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

Author's Note: I seem to be on a roll lately. This isn't actually how I planned this chapter to be like, but it works, don't you think? I hope I'm giving you guys something good here. Remember to please, PLEASE review, I love you guys. In fact I love you guys so much, that I'm dedicating this chapter to my most faithful readers: **Genic**, **VampireSlayer83 **& **chosen-one91**. Thank you for your support!

* * *

I opened my eyes and the pain was gone. I was still lying in the cemetary, but the grass was wet with dew. The sun was rising (or setting, I couldn't tell), barely on the horizon now. I sat up, and there was someone calling my name.

"Willow?" I called back. "Where are you?"

I turned around and saw her and Tara. They were holding hands and dancing, but calling my name over and over.

"It's okay, Buffy," I heard my sister and all of a sudden, she was dancing as well. "You won. You won and we all died, it's all good."

"What?" I didn't understand. I stood up and tried to reach for Dawn, but she just skipped away happily, along with Willow and Tara. I won? They died? It didn't make sense. I turned around and wandered into the mist where they sunlight hadn't made it yet. I had this feeling that I needed to go in _this_ particular direction.

Then I saw Giles. He was sitting on a headstone, Indian-style, with a cup of tea in his hand. I rushed to him, saying, "You didn't die, did you, Giles? I didn't win."

He ignored me. "Giles?" I tried again, but he didn't even look at me. I waved my hand in front of his eyes, but he merely took a sip of his tea. It slipped from his mouth and spilled all down his front.

"Oh, bother," he muttered, looking down at his shirt. "She should've taken better care. Now look at it all, it's gone. She should've taken better care, better care, better care, better care..."

I left Giles muttering all along, shaking my head. The light was getting closer, so I headed onward. I must be looking for something. It was important that I found it before the light got too close. I went up a hill and stopped; there was a figure at the top. It was my mother, but her back was facing me. She was holding something in her arms, and bouncing it gently. I could hear her calming voice humming a lullaby.

"Mom?" I called. "Mom?"

She turned and smiled. I saw what was in her arms; it was a bundle, a baby. I reached for it, but Mom laughed. I jumped back when I saw that it wasn't Mom anymore, it was Faith. She continued rocking the baby.

"C'mon, B," she crooned. "You know you weren't cut out for this anyway."

Before I could answer, she changed again. It was Anya, switching the baby to her other side. She laughed at me again. The laugh rang on and on, she went from Anya to Xander, to Glory, to Ms. Calendar, to Druscilla, back to Mom. I screamed, "Wait! Wait!" and she stopped changing. It was Mishka, but she was still laughing.

"What a pretty _divchnya_," She cooed between giggles. "Too bad about Daddy."

"What?" I tried to reach her again, but Mishka held it tighter. "No! You can't have her!"

"I already do," she laughed again. "She'll make a good gypsy, no?"

"No!" I screamed, but Mishka disappeared, toward the East. I wanted to run after her, but someone else was calling me. The light was on my heels and it wanted me.

"Buffy!" I heard the cry. "Buffy!" I ran toward the voice. It was so familar, but it was painful to hear. As I got closer, the screams got louder. They started to make my tummy hurt, and my tears turn to blood. Soon, I saw Miroslav, wrestling someone. I couldn't see who it was, so I wiped away my bloody tears and called back. Miroslav bit down and the person and I screamed together.

My tummy hurt so much that I fell to the ground. Miroslav walked off and revealed _him_. The light was too close, too close. It was pulling me back, so I dug my knees into the earth and crawled. He was crawling towards me, too.

"Buffy," he gasped. "Do you hear me?"

"Oh, god, I hear you!" I struggled to reach him. If he could just hold me, it would be all right. "Please, don't leave me!"

"You'll make it out of this," he lunged forward a little. "You always do."

"Please!" I cried, the sunlight creeping up my back. "I need you, I'm sorry! God, don't leave me!"

With a final effort, I could look straight into his eyes. I held my place, however difficult, and looked at him. I reached my hand out to him and he mouthed words I couldn't catch. But all I needed was to touch him. I tried with all my might, then he lifted up his hand. He crossed the line where day met night and held my hand in his own.

I thought it would be all right then, if I could just hold onto him. Then his hand caught fire. He didn't let go as the fire went up his arm, across his chest, encompassing his entire body in seconds. I tried to hold tighter, but he stared at me sadly as he burned. Soon, his hand turned to ash in mine and his body collapsed. I tried to take his ashes, but a wind blew me over and him away.

I cried then. Tearless, and empty. The sunlight took me back

* * *

"My god, she's awake!"

I blinked into the bright light, unable to feel anything yet. Slowly, I felt the bed underneath me, and a gentle pumping into my left arm. I breathed in and my senses returned all at once. I was tingly from the waist down, and my head reeled. I looked and I could see Willow by a door, calling out into the hall. She looked at me and smiled, waving a bit. I didn't think to try and move my arm.

Then Angel came through the door and headed straight for me. He sat down next to my bed and grabbed my hand. I realized then that I could hold his back, so I squeezed a little.

"Hey," Angel said quietly, smiling. "Hey, honey."

"Hey," my voice was hoarse and not even above a whisper. He sighed in relief and reached up, smoothing my hair back. I just stared at him and his gentle smile and nothing occured to me right away. Then someone appeared behind him. I saw a bald head and a white jacket. And it hit me.

Oh, no, I was in a hospital. What had they done to me? My smile that had barely appeared now vanished. Oh, god. The baby. I didn't know if she was still here or not, I couldn't _feel_ her. I met Angel's eyes again, when mine began to water. His smile faltered, and he squeezed my hand a little tighter.

I heard the doctor call for a nurse as I began to sob uncontrollably. The baby was all I could think about. My body shook with the force of my sorrow. She was gone, our tiny, sweet girl. I wanted desperately for the darkness to take me again.


	18. Losing Her

Disclaimer: It's all about the Joss, man.

Author's Note: Forgive me for my obscenely short updates of late, but I just had to get over this hump. You know that kind of mini-climax that you get in movies in stuff? Well, the last two chapters was kind of that, and this is the end of my mini-climax. Don't worry! The _real_ climax is yet to come. But I know you guys were probably freaking out wondering if the baby's alive or dead or what, so here's your answer. Also, this is another of Angel's POV's, so enjoy that too. I wanted to say that if it sounds a bit haphazard, I'm sorry because I actually wrote most of this chapter a long time ago and I was having some blending the new stuff with the old stuff. So yeah!

* * *

After two days in the hospital, the doctors finally released Buffy. They were surprised at how far she'd progressed in so little time. I knew they spoke physically, and I also knew that that was due to her preternatural self-healing. But they stressed the fact that she'd needed to relax and relieve the strain on her body, which meant taking it easy, and definitely no slaying. They said that the baby was stable for now, but any undue exertion could send her into a full-blown miscarriage. They didn't say if she wouldn't have a miscarriage nonetheless.

It was like walking on pins and needles when Buffy came home. At first, I made sure she had plenty of bedrest, and waited on her hand and foot. In any other situation, she might've had enjoyed it. But all it did was feed her guilt and make her restless. So, I backed off and let her do it on her own. She was very careful about everything: walking downstairs, showering, and especially when she left the house. It seemed like it would be okay.

It was Buffy's front. I knew that behind her confident facade, she was terrified. Though after a couple of days, she could hide the way she gripped the banister, I could tell it was killing her. She was on the verge of breaking down like she did in the hospital from the time she woke up to the time she fell asleep. I did all I could without letting her know that I knew. I tried to be strong for her. I _had_ to be strong for her and our baby.

* * *

I had just gotten out of the shower, and from upstairs, I could smell dinner wafting its aroma from the kitchen. I wiped the steam off the mirror and stared at my reflection. I noticed the way the crease marks in my brow had deepened, from all the heavy thought I took upon myself.

I couldn't help but think, could this be the one thing that could destroy us? Losing a child, a miracle that may never happen again...well, I wasn't sure if my heart could take it. And seeing Buffy struggle from day to day, so cautious and frightened, it didn't help. I'd admit that I missed just laying out on the couch on a Sunday when we'd make plans for our family. Then I would rub her stomach, and talk to the tiny person inside and Buffy would giggle and tell me what the baby was saying.

I turned away from the mirror. But Sundays like those were gone. Now we spent them silent, together, but inevitably alone. We were torn apart by almost losing her, what would happen if she was really gone? I pulled on my pants, swallowing back my sorrows. If Buffy saw me break down, she might, too, and we couldn't risk any amount of stress. Not if we wanted to save her.

I had a burning in the back of my throat that threatened to spill out my eyes. I couldn't protect her from them, and why? I slammed my fist down on the counter. How could I have been so reckless? So careless? I could've done more; I could've told Buffy not to go.

I picked up my shirt and was about to put it on when I heard a crash. It sounded like glass breaking and then I distinctly heard Buffy cry out, "_No_!" My heart raced and my mind filled with all sorts of terrible scenarios that could be happening. I dropped the shirt and flew out of the bathroom and down the stairs as fast as my feet could take me.

"Buffy?" I called from the hall, rushing toward the kitchen. "Buffy?"

I found her underneath an open cupboard, kneeling among the shards of a plate. There was the step ladder next to her, toppled over. She looked at me, her face pale and her body shook, one hand was in the glass, and the other was flush against her abdomen. She looked so helpless right then that my stomach dropped. I knelt next to her.

"Buffy," I said softly while I reached up and brushed her hair back. "What happened?"

"I-I was going to set up th-the table," Buffy explained, sniffling while I carefully brushed the glass off the palm of her hand. "The ladder tipped and I freaked, s-so I dropped the plate."

"It's okay," I said, still petting her hair, but she grew closer and closer to tears. I could only imagine her reaching for the plate and the ladder falling from underneath her. If she had fallen... "Are you okay?"

"I d-didn't want to hurt her any more," Buffy let her tears fall now and her voice became more shaken. "I don't w-want to -- _hurt_ her anymore, Angel..."

I pulled her away from glass and she leaned against the cupboard under the sink, sobbing now. I sat next to her and she reached for me. I held her against me as she cried hard into my chest, her tears wettening my skin. Buffy clinged to me as if she was so scared that I would let her go. I brought her closer, bringing my arm around her waist. I felt the roundness of her belly and thought of her. I shut my eyes, trying to be strong for her, for Buffy.

"Oh, god, Angel," Buffy spoke in the deadliest whisper. "We can't lose her, she's ours. Please, please. Don't let me take her away...not from you, please..."

"No," I kissed the top of her head, then tilted her face up toward me so I could kiss her tears. "Nobody can't take her away. She's still here, I promise."

"She's still here," Buffy repeated like she was trying to make herself believe. "She's ours, and still here. Please..._please_..oh, please."

"Shh, baby," I picked her up and placed her in my lap, rocking her and burying my face between her neck and shoulder. "I'm here, baby, I'm here. Shh, it's okay."

Before I knew it, I was releasing my own emotions onto her shoulder. She only clung tighter, her hands tangled in my hair. I'd never seen Buffy this way, so hopeless and so much in pain. It was like she cursed herself for what Miroslav had done to her and the baby, as if somehow it was her fault. I took a deep breath and stayed my own sobbing, then Buffy pulled away and looked at me.

"God, Buffy," I said, staring into her eyes though my vision blurred. "I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry..."

It was Buffy's turn now to wipe my tears away. Gently, she brushed the back of her hand across my cheeks, then kissed my eyelids. She'd calmed by now, but never left my tight embrace on her. She brought my head to her chest and smoothed out my hair. I could hear her heart pound against my ear while she tried so hard to comfort me.

"I can't let anyone take her away from us," she spoke softly, but determined. "I'll do anything, fight anything, if I have to. You'll see, Angel. Before you know it, you'll be holding her and _no one_ will hurt her _ever_ again."

For the girl who barely a moment ago was falling apart in my arms, Buffy now became my rock. I never doubted her strength, and she hasn't failed me yet. I slid my arm underneath her knees and stood, holding her up. I carried her up the stairs and down the hall to the nursery. We settled in the far corner on the floor, and covered up some with Buffy's toddler quilt. I looked around, though it was mostly empty, it had this good vibe. I imagined how it would look later, with the sun shining through the window, and our baby crawling happily on the floor.

Buffy looked up at me and smiled, like she was seeing the same thing. We held each other's hands and dreamed of what we wanted life to be like. A world without demons, suffering, and the coldness of night, that is what I wanted for our child. A place where she could grow up peacefully, and live long.

And by God, we almost had it. For the first time in our life together, we had a taste of normalcy. And it was good.


	19. Seeing Is Perceiving

**Disclaimer: **Don't own, don't sue!

**Author's Note: **I'M BACK! Thank you to all of the older fans of this story who have been patiently awaiting a new chapter and to those new readers, thank you for not just passing this fiction up because it's four years old. Your faith is greatly appreciated!

I have only just a couple of short updates right now, but more is coming, I assure you! I just wanted to get this out to let you guys know that this story isn't dead and WILL be finished. [:

* * *

Now to the story! For those just tuning in, we left off shortly after Buffy has been released from the hospital after almost losing she and Angel's daughter. Dimitri is dead, but Sasha, Mishka and the ever-elusive Miroslav are still at large. Be mindful that there IS a time lapse between the last chapter and this one of about 5 - 6 months. As interesting as it must be to be a pregnant, non-slaying Slayer, I just didn't want to devote chapters to the aches and pains of pregnancy. Sorry to those of you who were waiting for that! I promise I will make it up to you, as the story ONLY gets more interesting from here on out!

But this still, seriously — to the story!

Cordelia tossed and turned in her sleep. She beat her pillow, kneading it until it was an accurate mold of her head, but nothing worked. She simply just could not fall asleep. With a sigh, she sat up and sipped on a glass of water she left at her bedside.

For some reason, her head was aching. Not enough to cause her alarm, it was mostly annoying. She blamed her insomnia on this pestering little pain. She yanked her hair out of its ponytail and tried massaging her scalp. It relieved the pain a little bit. Satisfied, she laid back down.

As soon as she shut her eyes, she realized she was not in her bed any longer. When she opened them, she realized she was not even in her room or in the hotel or _anywhere_ she recognized. She bolted upright and found she'd been lying on a cave floor. It was strangely warm and moist in here, and impossibly dark. No one would be able to see down here except — well, except for vampires.

What was going on? She stood up and brushed herself off. Then she heard a faint voice. Following them, she rounded a corner and saw candlelight. Lots of candlelight.

The narrow passage opened into a large cavern. In it, she noticed a small stream of water flowing into a small pool. Next to the pool was an altar of some kind, with a bowl in the center of it, filled with water. The water in the bowl and the pool reflected moonlight and Cordelia looked up. The cavern stretched upward impossibly, and in its ceiling, there was an opening and you could see the night sky, the moon and stars.

The voice had come from two figures in the cavern. There was a woman and a little girl. They were kneeling in front of the altar, hands clasped together and faces upturned toward the sky. The woman was chanting in a language Cordelia couldn't understand. They didn't seem to take notice of Cordelia, even as she stepped through the cavern mouth.

The elder spoke fervently and clearly while the younger was silent and crying and Cordelia suspected that she was not here by choice. When they ended it, the cave floor rumbled underneath them. It shook not unlike an earthquake and Cordelia was quite certain she could hear growling, roaring and other monstrous noises. The women didn't seem to mind.

Instead, the elder stood up while the younger remained kneeling. She picked up the bowl of water from the altar and the girl opened her eyes to look up at her.

"You are the one, you must serve the underworld," the woman said, sprinkling water onto the little girl's face. The girl flinched but otherwise stayed motionless.

Then she set the water bowl back onto the altar and the elder took a smaller bowl up, filled with ochre. After dipping her finger into the dust, she carefully marked the girl's cheeks and forehead with strange symbols. Cordelia was absolutely sure that she had just witnessed a ritual, but for what, she had no idea.

The girl was then allowed to stand and the elder kissed her head, and wore an expression of cold pride on her face. Then something happened, Cordelia didn't expect. When the elder woman had turned to wash her hands in the pool, the girl turned in Cordelia's direction. At first, she paid no mind, but then she realized that the girl's eyes were focused on her.

She retreated a few steps, but the girl caught up with her easily. She caught Cordelia by the throat and held her at arm's length, impossible for a little girl no more than six to achieve. Cordelia struggled, trying to wrench out of the grip.

"Look!" the girl demanded, her stare boring a hole into Cordelia's skull. Frightened out of her wits, but unable to look away, Cordelia took in the girl's features. She looked familiar somehow. She had long ash-brown waves, a soft heart-shaped face, and dark hazel eyes. She was young, but there was a fierceness in her eyes that was beyond her years.

"Look again!" the girl demanded and Cordelia cried out when she clenched down onto her throat. She screwed her eyes shut and cried out for help. The pressure changed and she suddenly felt arms surrounding her, she pushed them away, still screaming.

"Cordelia!" A voice broke through to her. "Cordelia! Wake up! Gunn! Gunn, hurry!"

Cordelia writhed. Her head felt as if it had split open. She felt the wetness of her own tears on her cheeks, and she couldn't stop sobbing. She reached up to pull the hand away from her neck, but it wasn't there anymore. She opened her eyes and saw that it was Wesley restraining her. She was back in the hotel, in her room, even in her bed.

Gunn burst in not a second later, panicking. He was wielding a dagger as if he were expecting some kind of physical opposition.

"Cordelia!" Wesley said breathlessly. "Are you all right?"

"I — I don't know," she said, looking at Gunn who hastily put the blade away upon discovering that Cordelia's life wasn't in immediate danger.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "I could hear you screaming from down the hall."

"Bad dream," she said, then she looked about herself. "No, no... I think it was a vision."

"What do you mean 'you think'?" Gunn chimed in.

"I mean, it was weird. Different."

"Different how?" Wesley helped Cordelia sit up.

"It was like... Like I was actually there. Most of my visions I see — as if I'm looking at it on a television or through a window, just images of things. This time," Cordelia shuddered. "I felt like it was actually happening. I mean, she grabbed me!"

"She who?"

"There was this girl. And this other woman, too. She was performing some kind of ritual. Then the girl looked at me and _choked _me. She was unnaturally strong."

"Like a vampire?" Gunn asked, his eyebrow cocked.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Is there anything else you remember?"

"Well, she told me to 'look', but I don't know at what. She kind of looked familiar, like someone I know or used to know. Oh, and the woman put these weird symbols on her face."

"Could you draw them?"

"Yeah, of course," Cordelia reached into her bedside table and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pencil, saved for moments like this. Before starting, she looked hard into Wesley's face. "It felt wrong, Wes. I can't explain it, but it actually scared me. In fact, I'd say I'm terrified."

* * *

Downstairs, the telephone in Angel's old office rang. Fred snapped the book of demonology that she was reading shut and jumped to her feet. She rushed into the office and answered the phone in a clear, bright voice: "Angel Investigations, we help the—"

Fred's eyes went about as wide as saucers. "Oh! Well, that's wonderful — No, no, I understand — good luck!" She managed to squeak out before the line went dead. She skipped out of the office, just as Gunn and Wesley were crossing the lobby area.

"Another case?" Wesley asked, walking around the reception desk.

"Nope," Fred couldn't suppress a grin. "That was Angel. Buffy's in labor right now!"

To her chagrin, both of the men's faces fell. Gunn's eyes shot upstairs whereas Wesley's eyes trained on the piece of paper he held in his hand.

"Why don't y'all look happy about it?" Fred questioned, her eyebrows drawn in. "This is a good thing!"

"Perhaps," Wesley murmured under his breath. He glanced over at Gunn and saw the same worries etched in his own face. He concentrated on the symbols scrawled on the paper before saying, "Right. Well, Gunn, go alert Cordelia. Fred and I will start decoding these."

"You — you don't really think that the girl is —?"

"We can't be sure of anything just yet," Wesley shook his head. "But I'd like to know as much about the vision — especially the little girl."

"What's going on?" Fred chimed in, leaning over to look at this mysterious scrap of paper Wesley held. There were several symbols drawn on it, none of them in a hieroglyph she recognized.

"Cordelia may — or may not have — had a vision about Angel's daughter," Wesley answered as Gunn shuffled away back toward the upstairs. "We need to decrypt these, find out what they mean."

"On it," Fred nodded, receiving the paper. "Don't you think we should call Angel? Let him know?"

"And what if we're wrong? No, better to let him have his moment unblemished. If we _are_ right... then we'll deal with it when that time comes."

"He's not gonna be happy about it," Fred whistled.


	20. Angel's Little Angel

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, yeah, yeah — Joss Whedon is awesome and I don't own.

**Author's Note: **All right, it's baby time! I'm sorry if this chapter is a little weak, I'm trying to bring back my mojo little by little. Note — my favorite part of this whole story is the fact that Angel's carrying Mr. Gordo all over the place. Hehe, it made my day to make him a scared father. Oh, and if ANY of you have ANY questions about this story at all, don't hesitate to ask! On to the story now.

* * *

"Hey, Angel? Where'd you go?" I called when I looked up and he was no longer in the room. So, maybe disappearing without a sound wasn't so much a vampire trait as it was an Angel's. I stood upright from leaning over my small suitcase, and pressed my hands against the small of my back with a gentle grunt. One of these days, I swear I was going lean over and not be able to get back up. I looked down at my belly, extending out from me so far that I could no longer see my feet underneath.

I turned and made for the hallway, two blankets draped over my arm. The doctor told me that it should be soon. My due date was September 18th, but that was two days ago. They don't want to take evasive action until I'm a week or more past due. The important thing was that she was healthy and seemingly happy as a clam. Or at least, I think that's what the constant moving around and kicking meant. She was definitely a Slayer's kid — she kicked _hard_.

"Angel?"

"Up here!" Angel's voice called back down to me. I sighed, looking at the flight of stairs and started to make the long trek up them. Inwardly, I chastised Angel for coming up here so unannounced. Climbing stairs was the most difficult part of my daily routine, so I really avoided doing it more than twice a day — in the morning after waking, and at night when going to bed. Bedtime was a wrestle. I did not like these Marxson-Jinx, Jackson-Ticks – whatever they were called — contractions at all. It was like trying to sleep with a rock with a stomach. I felt a little out of breath when I reached the second floor. Thank god, we didn't have a third.

"You know, I was thinking that we should pack the pink blanket instead of the white," I said while catching my breath. The light was on in the nursery so I headed that direction. When I got there, I saw no one. I rose an eyebrow, now thoroughly confused. "Angel?"

"Right here," Angel's voice came from behind me, loud and clear. I nearly jumped out of my skin, yelping. I spun around to face him.

"Jeez!" I said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Maybe Xander's idea of a bell wasn't so bad!"

"Sorry," Angel chuckled, and held up a stuffed pig as a sort of white flag. "I was just looking around for this."

I suddenly had this weird feeling. My stomach turned, and I felt the baby move. But not just a little adjustment or a kick, but it felt like she fell down. Then a cramp shot across, doubling me over. Angel caught my shoulder with his free hand, his eyes focused on mine. Then there was this strange sensation of release.

"Ow," I groaned, then looked down where between my feet was a puddle of fluid. "And _eww_!"

"Are you all right?" Angel's brown eyes were wide with worry and a glimmer of bewilderment.

"Yeah, I think my water just broke," I said, stepping away from the puddle. The cramp didn't go away; instead, it got tighter. I held onto the baby's little dresser for a moment, waiting for it to pass. "I have to change, that was a little gross."

"Change?" Angel's eyes just widened more, if it was possible. "We have to go! I'll — I'll call an ambulance, don't worry about any —"

"Ambulance?" I looked at my husband as though he'd just lost his mind. Well, maybe he did. "_So_ unnecessary. Just let me change and we'll just drive to —"

"Drive? But what if we don't make it in time? Buffy, I may have lived a long time, but I know _nothing_ about birthing children!"

"Hey, why were you looking for Mr. Gordo anyway?" I asked, brushing past him when the cramp let up and headed for our room.

"I figured you might want him in your room — but that's beside the point," Angel grumbled, following me. "Buffy, Buffy, what — are you seriously changing right _now?"_

"Of course!" I said, kicking the soiled clothing aside and sitting on the edge of our bed to pull on some clean panties and my favorite comfy, stretchy sweats. "You expect me to wear wet clothes to the hospital?"

"But we have to _go_!" Angel said vehemently.

"Just take it easy, all right? We have time. You should probably call —" I gripped the bedspread as another contraction squeezed my womb. Catching my breath, I continued, "Call Giles."

"Buffy!" Angel crossed the room in one step toward me when he saw the look of pain on my face. He rubbed the top of my arm, his eyes clouded with concern. "That's it – I'm calling an ambulance."

"No!" I argued, struggling to my feet before he could reach the door. "Are you crazy? Here, just help me downstairs and then call _Giles_."

We got downstairs without incident. Angel flitted back upstairs for the blanket I had dropped in the nursery — the first time for the pink one, the second time for the white one — and ran my suitcase out to the car. The contractions were progressively getting worse. I sat on the ottoman on the edge of the living room, bracing myself against them. Angel ran back upstairs one more time for my favorite pillow before _finally _calling Giles.

Giles took all of ten minutes to get to our house. Angel was still running around like a chicken with its head cut off — a really disgusting analogy, actually — wondering what else they should bring and still mulling over the idea of calling an ambulance. I would have laughed if my womb didn't currently feel like it was on fire.

"Buffy?" Giles laid a gentle hand on mine. "Is there anything you need?"

"No," I said through gritted teeth. "But could you..?"

At my waved gesture toward Angel, who was currently running around the kitchen with the phone pressed to his ear, looking about as panicked as a rabbit in front of a wolf. Giles nodded, smiled and kissed the top of my head before heading toward Angel as he hung up the phone. "Will you _please_ stop flitting about like a nursemaid and tend to your wife?"

Good man.

* * *

"Hey, Will," I said, squeezing her hand as the orderly pushed me down the hall in a wheelchair. I really wanted to _walk_; at least it distracted me from the vice it felt like my body was in. Willow walked next to me, opposite of Angel. "So d'you remember if it's supposed to hurt this much?"

"Is it too much?"

"Of course it is, Angel," Willow sniffed and shook her head at Angel. "How would _you_ feel if an eight-pound child was trying to push itself out of you?"

"Yeah, I hear it's like all your insides are twisting and colliding and like you're literally being pulled from the inside out," Dawn chimed in from behind the chair.

"Dawn!"

"Yeah, Dawnie," Xander said sympathetically. "Not really sure you're helping with that one."

"Well, you know a lot of women died in my age from —" Xander quickly clapped a hand over Anya's mouth.

"You're not gonna die," Tara leaned in while we all stood stationary in the elevator, then she elbowed her girlfriend. "Tell her she's _not_ gonna die."

"Oh, Buffy, it'll be all right —"

"Don't worry about a thing —"

"This one time, _all_ of her guts really came out —"

"You're doing fine —"

"Just hang tight –"

"Can ALL of you just please shut up?" I exploded when we finally got to my room. I had my arms around my stomach, fighting back the tears. The contractions were longer — _way _longer, and didn't seem to let up for more than a minute or two. It might have felt like my legs were being sawed off at the thigh if the feeling of a giant fist punching me in the back wasn't there either. I just couldn't stand to hear any more of their banter, no matter how helpful they'd been trying to be.

Angel knelt in front of my wheelchair as the orderlies double-checked the room. He'd been extremely quiet since Giles came to get us. If I was trying not to cry out in pain, I would've laughed at him as he caressed my cheek. He was wearing this lost and confused expression on his face and the wetness in his eyes just _might_ have been sympathy pain, and he was still clutching Mr. Gordo like a scared child.

"Angel," I whined, leaning my head against his wide hand. I clutched at the bottom of my stomach as another contraction began. He kissed my forehead and stayed there until it passed.

"Shh," he hushed, rubbing my cheek with his thumb. "I'm here, all right?"

I looked into his face, trying to steel myself against it and nodded mutely. I gasped as the contraction increased and I leaned my head onto Angel's shoulder, the tears stinging in the back of my throat. He rubbed my back as I continued to whine.

* * *

The crew sat in the waiting lobby, down the hall and around the corner from my room. Dawn, Tara, and Willow were all in pajamas as Angel had woken them up to tell them the news. In fact, during the process, Dawn had taken a nap on Tara's lap. Anya and Xander tried to entertain themselves with useless cinema trivia while Giles paced.

Angel didn't leave my side, he praised me and kept whispering to me, just to keep my mind off of what was going on. It was worse than most things I'd ever felt because it didn't stop. Each contraction was worse than the last and I could feel the baby's head pressing against the bottom of the womb, wanting to break free.

When it came to the pushing part, I had taken to vocalizing the pain — loudly. I'd accidentally twisted on of the bars on the birthing bed in my right hand. Tears streamed freely down my sweating face, and I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

"Good, Buffy," the nurse said. "She's starting to crown right now."

The contraction eased for a moment and I was allowed to take in some deep breaths. Angel, who sat behind me, crushing poor Mr. Gordo between us, wiped my forehead and pulled my hair back out of my face.

"Angel," I sobbed. "This hurts really, really bad."

"I know, baby," He murmured, wrapping his arms back around me and placing a kiss at the back of my neck. "It'll be over soon, I promise."

I held his arms to me as the next contraction came, trying to remember my lamaze breathing and pushing down as hard as I could. I thought my head was going to explode, or rather my lower half rip away from the rest of me. Dying was nothing compared to this. But Angel was right all along. A few more of those fist-clenching, flesh-ripping pushes and the doctor grinned up at us.

"You did it!" She said, lifting a tiny, squirming little infant toward me. She laid her right down on my chest and the nurse covered her with a towel and handed Angel another one.

"Oh my god," Angel said near my ear, helping the nurse clean off our baby girl as she clung to me, crying out in the smallest, sweetest little voice I ever heard. I glanced up at Angel to see tears rolling down his own cheeks, but the brightest, warmest smile I'd ever seen on his mouth.

When she was clean and dry, we counted ten tiny fingers along with ten tiny toes. She had the softest tuft of golden blonde hair on her head and chubby rosy cheeks. The rest of the gang came in to see her; Dawn and Anya doing the most cooing and kissing.

"She's all yours," I said as Willow passed on the baby to Angel. She looked incredibly small in his big arms, and Angel froze, obviously afraid of dropping her. I reached up, stroking her baby hair as Angel hesitantly began to bounce her, slowly and carefully. "She's a little angel — just like you."

To that Angel smiled and nodded, watching as she stretched out in his hold, tangling her tiny fists in his shirt. I'd never seen Angel happier in all my life. Not even when he stepped out into the sun that first day he was human, not even when he clasped my hands as we spoke those vows to each other. It was as if he had found his sole reason for existence. He brought his head to hers and kissed her cheek, his fingers stroking her arm. Then he leaned over to me and kissed me full on the mouth before saying, "Thank you."

We named her Angela Joyce. And at barely ten minutes old, she was already the light of our world.


	21. Pieces Of

**Disclaimer: **He may own it, but Joss couldn't keep a story going like I can... apparently.

**Author's Note: **I know it's been a long time since I updated, and I'm so sorry to keep you readers waiting! But the story isn't dead and it _will_ be finished, I promise! The next couple of chapters are sort of wonky, due to the insane writer's block I've had. All I've been dreaming about is the climax and end of the story, which I swear will make up for the weirdness in-between.

* * *

As she had nearly every night for the past five years, Buffy entered her home carefully. She shut and locked the door silently behind her, then leaned against it for a second. She took a deep, cleansing breath, clearing her mind. She inhaled the familiarity of her home and the comfort it gave. She peeled out of her jacket and hung it on the hook in the entryway. Then, as routine called, she made her way toward the second floor to check on her family.

It had not been easy being a wife and a mother and the Slayer all at once. She had suspected that she wouldn't make through the early years, when Angela was still a baby. Buffy could remember thinking that Dawn had never been _that_ difficult, but she reminded herself that she was only in an older sister capacity and motherhood was a completely different thing. But somehow she'd made it. With the help of her friends, and Angel's unfailing will to do anything, she'd managed to raise a beautiful and healthy little girl.

Buffy pushed her door open to find that Angel wasn't in bed. She stopped short, looking around confused. No light was on in the bathroom. Before she had more time to wonder where the hell her husband was, she heard a muffled giggle coming from Angela's room.

As she made her way down the hall, the giggles continued. Buffy frowned; Angela should have long been in bed by now. What exactly was she doing anyway? Out of curiosity, she pressed her ear to her child's door and heard Angel's lowered voice.

"Now, Angie, are you cheating?"

"No!" Another peal of giggles.

"Okay," Angel chuckled. "Put your elbow all the way down... there you go. Now on three we go, okay? Count with me. One..."

"Two..."

"Three!" They both sounded. Buffy opened the bedroom door and stepped in. Immediately, she tried not to laugh. In the middle of their daughter's room, Angel and Angela had constructed a fort. A few chairs served as poles to hold up a couple of blankets and several sheets. They'd set a lamp inside and Buffy could see their shadows through the sheet facing her. Only Angela seem to fit inside; Angel's legs stuck far out from underneath a comforter.

From what she could tell, it seemed that they were arm wrestling. An odd pasttime for a father and his four-year-old daughter. Buffy cleared her throat loudly and the pair of them froze, looking up at her guiltily.

"Isn't someone supposed to be in bed?" Buffy said pointedly, raising a brow. Angel chuckled nervously and Angela pouted.

"We were just playing around," Angel shrugged. "I figured I'd spoil her since it's her birthday tomorrow."

"Mommy, play with us!" Angela spouted, a huge grin spreading across her face. She looked to Angel for support, which in turn caused Buffy to give him 'the look'.

"Ah, maybe not right now, honey," Angel pinched her cheek lightly when her pout returned. "There'll be plenty of time tomorrow to play, with Mommy and Aunt Dawn and everybody."

"And cake!" Angela giggled. Buffy strolled over and knelt by the makeshift fort.

"Yeah, but you gotta go to sleep first, baby," Buffy said, a gentler, motherly tone in her voice now. Angela nodded and flipped over to lay her head on the pillow. Buffy looked over to her right to see that her bed had been stripped and sighed lightly. Angel crawled out from underneath and turned the lamp off as he went.

"Daddy? Can we arm wrestle when I wake up?" Angela asked innocently as Buffy tucked her into a sleeping bag. "Promise I won't cheat."

"Sure, honey," he murmured and gave her a kiss. "Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams," Buffy said, brushing Angela's bangs out of her face. Angela looked up with a smile and suddenly very sleepy eyes. They kissed each other and she nestled into her pillow. "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy."

The parents didn't speak until they had shut Angela's door, walked down the hall and were in the comfort of their own room. Then Buffy smacked Angel's hand.

"Ow!" Angel cried as quietly as possible and Buffy suppressed a laugh at the surprise on his face. "What was that for?"

"You're gonna ruin her sleeping pattern, she's gonna be all sluggish for school."

"Buffy, it's one night. It's not gonna hurt," Angel held up his offended hand. "My _hand_ however does."

"Wh – how'd you get those?" Buffy grabbed Angel's wrist, bringing his hand closer for inspection. There were small bruises forming on the back of it.

"I wanted to talk to you about it. Remember last week when Angie broke her dollhouse by accident? We thought she'd thrown it or something? I don't think that was it."

"Angel, she couldn't have pulled that top off without..." Buffy stopped short, her eyes flickering back to his hand.

"I thought arm wrestling was a good test for a kid. I wasn't gonna have her do something that could get her hurt, but... She's strong, way stronger than she should be at her age."

"Slayer strong?" Buffy looked up with wide eyes, nearly unbelieving. For a moment, she didn't know whether to be filled with pride or filled with dread. Angel's jaw clenched at the word 'slayer' so she could only assume that he felt the same way.

"Proportionally," Angel nodded.

"What do we do? If she hurts someone or hurts _herself_ that -"

"We teach her to control it," Angel interrupted. "Like Giles taught you. I – I don't know what this means, but we'll deal."

"You don't think she -" Buffy struggled with the words. "That she'll – be called, do you?"

"I don't know," Angel's eyes mirrored the same anxiety and fear of that possibility that Buffy was feeling.

"She's just a baby," Buffy said barely above a whisper, her voice breaking. Angel wrapped his arms around his wife, pulling her close, attempting some form of comfort.

"I know."

* * *

"Hey guys!" Fred bounced into the hotel lobby, clutching a manila envelope. Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley filed out from the office area. Fred held up the envelope, grinning, "It's from Angel!"

"Huh, weird that it came when we're just about to see him," Gunn said. Fred passed the envelope to Cordelia to open.

"It must be the pictures," she said.

"Pictures?" Wesley looked confused.

"Of Angela, duh! We've seen zip of her since she was two!" She said, pointing to a framed photograph that they'd posted on the lobby desk.

"You didn't get this one?" Wesley pulled out his wallet and flipped to a photo of a three-year-old Angela in a pink dress and cowboy boots.

"You have a _different_ picture?" Cordelia growled, hurrying over to investigate.

"In your _wallet_?" Gunn laughed.

"Well, it fit." Wesley shrugged, smirking. Fred crowded over to look too. "Plus, the boots are quite adorable."

"_Awww!_" She crooned, pointing. "Look at her curly pigtails!"

"That's classic Buffy," Cordelia said. "That shade of blonde is unmistakable. Definitely got her dad's eyes though."

"Oh," Fred sighed sweetly. "In _proportion_, look at those big ol' browns!"

"Ahem," Wesley raised a brow. "Don't you want to see what she looks like now?"

"Oh, right!" Cordelia backed up, ripping open the envelope. Inside were several different photographs of different sizes. She pulled out the 8x10 and froze, her face falling. Before the others could ask what the matter was she rushed over to the desk, frantically pulling out the other pictures and spreading them out before her.

"What's up?" Gunn stepped up to her, looking at the pictures. Wesley and Fred followed suit. Cordelia stared with wide eyes at the brunette little girl staring back at her with a smile that went all the way up to her sparkling hazel eyes. Angela was still a perfect blend of both Buffy and Angel – but in reverse.

"Man," Gunn shook his head. "Kids sure change quickly."

"She's so beautiful," Fred said, holding up a small photo. "Wonder if she'll even remember us."

"Cordelia, what's wrong?" Wesley asked, laying his hand on her shoulder. Cordelia finally looked up and crossed her arms across her chest, heaving a sigh.

"It's Angela," Cordelia shook her head as if she didn't want to believe it herself. "The girl from my dream - er – vision that... "

Fred and Gunn snapped their attentions back to Cordelia. Wesley glanced down at the desk, "From five years ago? Are you sure?"

"I wish I wasn't," Cordelia rubbed at her brow.

"We should tell Angel," Gunn offered. Cordelia rounded on him.

"Tell him what? That we think his only daughter is a pawn of Wolfram and Hart's? He'd gut us before we ever got the chance to explain!"

"Cordelia's right," Wesley interjected before Gunn could make a comeback. "We need to have all the facts before we bring this to either Angel or Buffy. We can't just open up our suspicions, it'll just upset them."

"I don't know how much more we can find out without help," Fred said. "Angel and Buffy are our best chance at figuring this out. They know Angela better than anyone obviously. And – and maybe they'd recognize the other woman from your dream, Cordelia."

"Wait," Wesley rose his hand. "We don't need to involve them just yet."

"But how –?"

"We can get inside help," Wesley headed toward the office. "I just need to make a call to Sunnydale."

"Who?" Gunn questioned.

"Giles," Cordelia caught on. "It's gotta be Giles."

* * *

"Bloody hell," Giles muttered, coming down the stairs, wrapping his bathrobe tightly around him. He reached the phone shockingly by the fifth ring and tried to make his voice sound less angry than he felt. "Hello?"

Giles sighed audibly, putting his hand to his temple. "Wesley, I realize that Los Angeles is the city that never sleeps but it's nearly three o' clock in the morning here."

"Very well, go on," He grumbled, pulling his glasses out of his pocket as he listened to Wesley talk on the other end of the line. "Angela's quite healthy, I can assure you. Why the sudden interest in her well being? Especially at -" he glanced at the wall clock. "2:43 AM? You'll be seeing us all tomorrow."

"No, she's perfectly normal. Perhaps a little energetic, but nothing out of the ordinary." When he soon realized that this was going to be a long conversation, Giles moved to the kitchen to heat water for tea. "What was this vision?"

Giles' brow deepened, listening intently now. "I see... and you believe that Angela is this young girl in Cordelia's dream?"

"Ah," Giles turned on a lamp in the dining room. "Well, the child of a Slayer is not necessarily an unprecedented event. There have been several in the past, but most of them never survived past adolescence. However, the ones that did are not so thoroughly recorded."

Giles searched his book shelf for a moment before pulling out a small, hard-covered book. He flipped it open on the table, and ruffled through the pages. "The Watcher's diary of Thomas Wilshire has a passage … here – February, 1718: his charge, Mary O'Reilly gave birth to a son. His name was Michael. The labor was normal, the delivery was safe and the newborn healthy. September, 1718: The infant was a bright child. No conflicts between the Slayer's duties and her motherly responsibilities. Um... June, 1719: The boy presents no supernatural abilities that can be verified, but has an unexplainable connection to the mother. Wilshire suspects that it may be something psychic. Let's see, October, 1719: Wilshire tests the boy's connection to the mother, using what is described as a system like Zener cards. It seems that the test was unsuccessful, as he could not relate the image from his mother's mind. In November of 1719 he tries a different system, but the same result."

Giles stopped for a moment, focusing on the next part. "Oh. The tests of the boy's skill were abandoned after January of 1720 and he writes no more about the child until February, 1722: Wilshire fears the boy is becoming paranoid. He continues to warn Wilshire and his mother about a strange figure. He cannot describe it and so the mother feels that it's simply a child's fear. In March, 1722: Mary is sent on a mission some eighty miles away from home, hunting a Darval demon and the boy is put in the Watcher's care. Five days before his mother's return, the boy has a fit in church. Er, he screamed and moved so violently that he had to be restrained. The next day when he finally awoke, he tells Wilshire that his mother has died." Giles closes the book solemnly. "Mary never returned. They found her body, torn to shreds."

Giles walked into the kitchen to pour the tea, listening to Wesley for a moment. "I don't know that Angela possesses any special skills. Slayer strength, that's what Cordelia saw?"

"The woman who spoke in a foreign – Ukrainian? Mishka." Giles set his cup down. "She's a gypsy from the Triabirov clan...in the texts she's supposed to be quite powerful. She – she's with a vampire called Miroslav. Have you – Yes. Quite."

Giles leaned back on the chair he sat in, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Of course, we should. Perhaps we can confer after the birthday party."

"No, Wesley, we must tell Buffy and Angel. If Angela is in danger, or, " Giles cleared his throat. "Buffy is our best chance at protection."

* * *

In a hidden cavern just below the surface, Mishka worked diligently by candlelight. A small bowl of burning herbs sat at her left, the fragrance filling the air. In front of her was an image of Buffy and Angel together. She made a mark on a chart and held it up in front of her face.

"Mishka," a deep solid voice said from behind her. Then Miroslav stepped into the circle of candlelight. He looked at her surroundings and nodded. "You have done well."

"I have changed our plan. The mortal first."

"Why?" Anger touched Miroslav's calm tone.

"The child is too well protected," Mishka said, eying the photograph that leaned against a candle. "This _Skorost lico_ will not be easy, but it will work. I am certain of it."

Miroslav leaned over the woman's shoulder to gaze at the chart she held. He noted the position of the planets and constellations, but his focus of interest was the position of the moon. A smile grew across his hard features.

"Tomorrow?"

Mishka nodded and sighed softly, happily. "Sasha will watch over me." Then she looked up at Miroslav. "The Hellmouth _will_ open, I promise you."

"Ah," Miroslav reached forward and touched Mishka's hair, letting it slip through his fingers. "Good girl."


	22. The Puzzle

_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own, naturally.

_**Author's Note: **_I know that last chapter seemed sketchy at best, but I promise it will all make sense soon! Review por favor!

* * *

"Look who finally woke up," Angel commented. Angela came strolling into the kitchen, rubbing her sleepy eyes. She went right into her mother's welcoming arms, yawning. Buffy pulled her into her lap, straightening out her 'Little Mermaid' pajamas.

"Good morning, baby girl," Buffy said, kissing her hair. "Look, we've got birthday pancakes – with chocolate chips!"

"Oooh!" Angela shed the drowsiness instantly, eying the stack of fresh pancakes in front of her. Angel came over and sat at the table with a cup of coffee for himself and one for Buffy and a glass of milk for Angela. "Daddy made them?"

"Don't worry," Angel said with a snicker. "Mommy's hands never touched them."

"Hey!" Buffy protested, playfully hitting Angel's arm. "I'm not _that_ bad of a cook!"

"I like Mommy's spaghetti better," Angela said before biting into a delectable hunk of cake and chocolate.

"See?" Buffy grinned.

"Are we gonna go see Aunt Dawn?"

"Well, first," Angel said, helping his daughter to cut up the pancake into bite-sized pieces. "Eat. And then the mall for your mom's present."

"I heard that tone, Angel. And I will not be dissuaded. It's a time-honored Summers tradition."

"What tone? I _love _the mall, honey," Angel rolled his eyes.

"Do you gotta leave tonight Mommy?"

Angel and Buffy exchanged quick looks. It was normal now for Buffy to leave shortly after dinner to go patrolling, but Angela didn't know what she was doing. She was used to Angel being the one seeing to it that she was bathed and put to bed. They hadn't discussed yet how they would answer when she started asking questions. The sky is blue, the drugs are bad, the birds and the bees they were prepared for. But why Mommy came home beaten up sometimes, or the weapons hidden in their room or why Mommy was super strong and fast they were kind of hoping those questions wouldn't come up until much later.

"No, baby," Buffy snuggled her face into her daughter's neck. "No work. Just you, me and Daddy and all our friends and family. I think it's gonna be your best birthday party ever."

"Yay!" Angela squealed through a mouth stuffed with sugary goodness. It was nice to spoil her every once in a while. When she was done, Buffy took her back upstairs to get dressed.

"Okay, how about the purple one... with the skorts? Or the dark jeans?" Buffy suggested, holding up an outfit. From her perch on her mother's rocking chair, Angela shook her head and wrinkled her nose. The shake of her head made the curlers in her hair bob around.

"Hm. White tank and red capris? Or the blue?"

"Nuh-uh."

"The green dress?"

Angela tilted her head at it, envisioning as a Summers girl would do. "Nope."

"Wow, you're getting good," Buffy teased, tapping her child's nose. "Okay, well... Oh, I know!"

Angela leaned forward as her mother rifled through her closet again. "Where is that blue... aha! Ballerina skirt. With the striped tank?"

"Yeah!" Angela jumped up out of her seat. She raised up her arms so Buffy could pull off the pajama top and replace it with her favorite navy blue and white tank. Then Buffy tugged the pants off. She bent down so Angela could hang onto her shoulder for balance as they put her legs into the built-in leggings of the skirt. She fluffed the netting skirt for her. Normally Buffy would have finished her outfit off with her white flats, but Angela insisted on her black low-tops. The style was courtesy of Willow, the color courtesy of Angel. For some reason he couldn't bear to his daughter in ultraviolet Converses.

Then Buffy set her up in front of the vanity of her room. Angela tried on her mother's varied amount of jewelry while Buffy took down the rollers and brushed her hairs. She fondly draped the curls down Angela's back before trying to tame her bangs. Then Angela begged her mother for makeup.

"Please, Mommy?" She looked up at her with big hazel eyes. Buffy sighed, opening her makeup case.

"Lip gloss. Pink." She pulled out the tube and Angela grinned.

"What 'bout this?" Angela asked, taking out the tube of mascara. Buffy snorted.

"Absolutely not."

* * *

There was a ring at the door and Angel left Willow and Tara in the kitchen to answer it. There stood the four LA figures, bearing gifts.

"Hey!" Angel said with a smile, opening the door wider to let them in.

"Hope we didn't miss too much," Fred mentioned, looking around.

"No, no," Angel told her and jerked his head toward the living room. "The kids are just playing pin the tail on the donkey... or on the Buffy, not really sure how that works out. Here, I'll take these -"

"So how are you guys? Everything okay?" Cordelia asked as he took their gifts. She followed him to the dining room table where all the presents were laid out.

"Yeah, we're fine," Angel said. "Today is a little hectic, with all the kindergarteners running around and all."

"We love it, it's _so_ much fun! Glad we had it here and not our house, Angel. " Willow added, coming into the room. Cordelia turned around and grinned. "Hey, Cordelia."

"Hey Fred!" Dawn called in the hall.

"Hi Dawn!"

"Oh, hey Angie," Buffy said, finally catching on that there were other people in the house. With the help of a friend, Angela stopped her mom spinning in the office chair. "I think people are here to see you."

"Okay, but you gotta leave it on," Angela said referring to the pin-the-tail blindfold that tied around her face. Buffy relented, just for the sake of good fun and let her daughter lead her through the room. Then quite suddenly, Angela dropped her hand.

"Uncle Wes!" Angela squealed, running forward and jumping into Wesley's arms. Wesley laughed as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, giving him a big hug.

"Don't get all excited," Cordelia muttered to Wesley's silly grin. "She calls everyone Aunt and Uncle. Um, Buffy, you okay?"

"Oh!" Buffy laughed, pulling off the blindfold. "I forgot! Hey guys, glad you could make it."

Buffy accepted a giggly hug from Fred and a one-armed from Gunn. "Oh, Wesley, I'll take her if she's -"

"Oh, no, no," Wesley said, supporting Angela's weight on one side. "It's quite all right."

"Wow, when did Wes became such a sap?" Dawn commented as Wesley walked off with the little girl, following Angela's pointed directions.

"Oh, about a half hour before we got here," Cordelia answered with a smirk.

"He has a picture of her in his _wallet_," Fred added.

"Funny, so do I," Giles said, popping around the corner. The greetings were interrupted by a cheer of miniature girls and a rush into the dining room, led by Angela. She jumped into a chair at the head of the table.

"Apparently it's time for presents," Angel said to Buffy's confused expression.

"Yeah!" Angela agreed enthusiastically, pulling a box toward her. "Presents!"

* * *

"She's upstairs, fast asleep," Buffy informed Angel, coming to the dining room table and sitting down. There were scraps of different colored wrapping paper all over, a few empty paper plates and party favors but they managed to clear the table off as much as possible. "So what's up, guys?"

She looked around at her friends' faces and suddenly realized that this wasn't going to be a light conversation. Willow, Xander and Angel are looked expectant – whereas Giles, Wesley, Cordelia, Fred and Gunn looked like they were going to give away bad news. Giles spoke first, which was natural to all of them.

"We don't want to worry you two," Giles said referring to Buffy and Angel. "But I believe that there's something happening here we've failed to foresee."

"Uh – I foresaw it," Cordelia said.

"Who's 'we'?" Buffy asked.

"That'd be us," Fred rose her hand sheepishly. "We were just waiting for the right time to tell you guys."

"Tell us what?" Angel said, fixing his gaze on his former team.

"Have you noticed any changes in Angela?" Giles cut across the others as they tried for a response. "Such as an increase in speed or agility? Heightened senses?"

"Wait a sec," Willow jumped in. "You think Angela's going to get Slayer powers?"

Angel and Buffy shared a long, meaningful look, before Buffy spoke again. "Not 'going to get', Will. Got."

"_What_?" Xander sounded.

"She's getting stronger," Angel further explained. "She doesn't seem to be able to control it."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Willow asked, looking away from Giles.

"We only just figured it out," said Buffy. "We didn't think... It's not bad, is it?"

"I had a vision, five years ago. A little girl was trying to warn me about something. She was afraid, I could feel it. She was inhumanly strong and at first I thought she was a vampire. But then... you sent us those pictures of Angela."

"We've been trying to work out the details of her vision ever since," Wesley said. "The only thing that was missing was the woman and the child. And Giles seems to believe that she's a woman named Mishka."

"What does Mishka have to do with Angie?" Buffy looked at Giles, her brows furrowing.

"Before Angela was born, Mishka threatened that she was going to take Angela away from you and Angel as well."

"But that's not anything new, right?" Xander commented. "They always tell her they're going to kill people close to her, that's what they do."

"We think it may be more than that," Wesley said, opening a folder in front of him. "I don't think it's just an empty threat, or that she's going to kill Angela. These are the symbols Cordelia saw in her vision."

Angel looked at the paper and passed it to Buffy. "You know what they mean?"

"They're trace imprints. Cordelia said that the woman – Mishka – was painting them on Angela's face. _These_ symbols are connected to Wolfram and Hart. They used them to mark places with substantial magical activity. Like centers of energy, places of ritual, sometimes portals."

"But Angela is none of those things. Why would you see that?"

"I don't know," Cordelia shrugged slightly. "This is the most vague vision I've ever had. I can't even pinpoint the location."

"The symbols suggest dark energy, near as I can figure out," Fred added. "I have a theory that the placement and the order is important – like, if they're arranged in a certain way, the markings act as a pathway, um – a key."

"Key?" Buffy leaned forward. "Key to what?"

"A hellmouth," Giles answered and the room fell silent for a moment. Willow, always on point broke it.

"But the Hellmouth is dead, right? After The Master was destroyed. And Mishka and Miroslav are long gone."

"Well, we think that this -" Fred pointed to the drawing of the markings. "is part of a ritual to open it up."

"Aha!" Xander smacked his hand on the table. "But we all know that the only way to open it is with Buffy's blood! They need the blood of a Slayer to work that mojo."

"That's exactly our concern," Wesley said. Buffy swallowed hard and stared at the table. Angel, noticing her unease, reached over and took her hand.

"But Buffy's not gonna let -"

"_Xander_," Willow nudged him. Xander looked around, he obviously hadn't caught on yet.

"Angie, Xander," Buffy said, still not looking up. She squeezed Angel's hand. "They want to use our daughter's blood to open the Hellmouth."

"But Giles," Willow pressed. "They know she's too well protected, that's probably why they left!"

"I don't think they left because of that, Will. They missed their first chance, and I believe that they will return and try again."

"So what? We'll just beat them back like we did before."

"It's not that simple, Willow," Wesley backed Giles up. "From the information Mr. Giles gave me about Miroslav and Mishka, it looks pretty grim. They're very powerful."

"But we did it before, we can do it again," Buffy said, finally raising her eyes.

"You won't be able to anticipate their moves this time. The rules have changed." Wesley sighed and then continued. "I was able to find out more about Mishka's power. It's more than just gypsy magic."

"Yeah, we heard the prophecy," Angel noted.

"It's not just a prophecy, Angel. It's a description. The verse says: 'The child with the innocence of a babe born in the Triad shall remain pure and her face will be like that of a chameleon and her strength will be of the night star.'"

"Ugh, I hate prophetic poems," Cordelia frowned.

"Sounds like posturing," Angel said. "Gypsies did it a lot."

"I know, but this is more. There are some facts that just seem more than coincidences. Such as how Mishka has been at Miroslav's side for a hundred years and yet she remains mortal. Mr Giles told me his conclusion that she would lose her powers if she ever became a vampire."

"What about the chameleon bit?" Xander asked. "And a night star?"

"That must be the moon," Willow said.

"At first I thought it was the moon as well, but then the one and only time that Miroslav attacked Buffy occurred during a total lunar eclipse. You probably didn't even notice."

"Lunar eclipses happen all the time," Fred explained. "As much as four or five times a year."

"So why wait? Why hasn't she used her power on me before?"

"Because she wanted you to think you were safe," Cordelia answered Buffy. "Make you feel all safe and comfortable."

"Wolfram and Hart may be evil," Fred said. "But they're not stupid. They want it done right and they don't want to fail again."

"So we'll be ready for them," Buffy said firmly. "When's the next eclipse?"

"In two days," Willow said quietly, folding her hands into her lap.

"_Two days_?" Angel growled, nearly jumping out of his seat. Buffy tugged on his hand, trying to restrain him, but he snatched it away from her. He stood up and left the room, fuming.

"Oh," Fred sighed after his steps disappeared. "I knew he wasn't going to take it well."

"How could he?" Buffy looked at her. "You basically just told him that his only daughter is going to die in two days."

"We can still fight this, Buffy," Willow assured her. "We'll do everything we can."

"We'll stay in town, just in case," Wesley said to both Giles and Buffy. "There's still something I'm trying to work out – it's called _skorost lico_. I think it's a spell of some sort."

"Willow?" Giles looked to her and she nodded, "On it."

"We'll uh - " Wesley stood up with the others. "We'll be at the motel if you need us."

Buffy stood and walked to the door to let everyone out. Cordelia passed her an apologetic smile before following the rest of them. Only Giles lingered back. He put a hand on her shoulder and sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," he spoke softly. "Truly."

"You know," Buffy looked up, fighting the burn in her throat. "We... we were just talking about having another baby."

Giles clicked his tongue sympathetically and pulled her into a embrace. It wasn't very often that they hugged, but this occasion surely called for it. Buffy accepted it gratefully and sniffed when they pulled away from each other.

"We _will_ do everything in our power to make sure Angela stays safe. Are you going to take her to school tomorrow?"

"Uh, yeah," Buffy nodded. "They can't hurt her there, not in the middle of the day. Then Tara's picking her up on her way home from class, so she'll be at their house until Angel's out of work."

"And you?"

"I'm going to try to figure this out. Find out everything that Wesley and Cordelia know... then I'm going to find Miroslav."

"Right. I'll call you as soon as I find out anything new," Giles said. "Just be careful."

After Giles left, Buffy locked the door and turned out the lights downstairs. All the while, she couldn't help but feeling like she was panicking inside. If somehow they managed to get Angela, Buffy didn't know what she would do. The only thing she could even wrap her head around was keeping Angela away from them. All she needed was to find Miroslav and kill him. Even if she had to kill Mishka... she had to protect her daughter.

She walked up the stairs and turned right toward Angela's room. She pushed the door open and looked inside. For a second, her heart flew up into her throat. Angela wasn't in her bed or anywhere in her room.

"Angel?" She called, racing down the hall to their bedroom. The door was open and Angel leaned against the door jamb. She breathed a sigh of relief when she looked around him and saw Angela lying in their bed, fast asleep.

"Should we move her?" He asked as they watched her for a moment, snuggling with her brand new teddy bear.

"No." Angel wound his arm around his wife and she leaned against his side. He kissed the top of her head, exhaling deeply.

"You know I'll die before I let anything happen to her," he said quietly.

"I know," Buffy responded, looking up at him. His face was full of conviction and she knew that he'd spent the last fifteen minutes asserting himself that no one was going to touch his little girl. He leaned down and kissed her gently, unraveling his arm from her. They went to opposite sides of the bed and moved in as carefully as possible.

Angela stirred just enough to roll over and cuddle up to her mother. Buffy put her arm around her, stroking her back. Angel turned to face them and smiled down at their daughter's sleeping face. He kissed her cheek before lying on his side, his arm draped over both of them.

"We'll get through this," Angel reminded her before they fell asleep. "We always do."


	23. Til Death

**Disclaimer**: Don't own, no claim.

**Author's Note**: Here's the chapter I've been waiting for since the beginning. Honest. Hold onto your seats, it's gonna be a bumpy ride from here on out. By the way, I am so sorry for the sudden perspective change in the last chapter! I've been writing a lot in the third person and I completely blanked that this series is in the first. Sorry again, but as always, read, enjoy and review. [:

* * *

I paced the small motel room, feeling restless. I could feel frustration seeping out of my skin. I watched Fred and Wesley's faces of a glimmer of revelation. I wasn't good at this sort of thing – research – never had been. I was a woman of action, something they told me their friend Gunn would appreciate.

"Buffy, I think you're wearing down the carpet," Cordelia criticized gently. I stopped in my tracks and looked at the watch at my wrist.

"We're running out of time," I stated flatly. "You can't see anything? Anything that might help?"

"It's not like I'm cable T.V.," Cordelia sighed. "I don't get to control my visions, the Powers do."

"Why aren't _they_ helping now then?" The phone rang, making me jump before Cordelia could explain once again that the Powers That Be weren't like that aunt you could call any time you were in trouble. Fred reached over, grabbing the receiver.

"It's Giles," she announced. I crept closer, even if I wasn't going to be able to hear what Giles was saying. Fred listened, then her eyebrows knitted up. "There's been a murder... two dead. Near the Ever-rest cemetery?"

"That's only a block from the high school," I muttered.

"Close to the Hellmouth," Cordelia added. "That's where they'd want to be."

My watch read 9:49 and I was beyond anxious at this point. "It's late. I have to find them _now_."

"Buffy, we haven't figured out - " Wesley paused under the harsh look I gave him. "We still don't know exactly what you're up against."

"Let me guess, two vamps and a nocturnal witch?"

"But we still have no idea how strong she is -"

"It doesn't matter, she's still human, so I'm thinking she bleeds like the rest of us."

"Buffy -" I gritted my teeth, annoyed at how very much he sounded like Giles right then.

"I'm done waiting!" I nearly shouted. Even though she still had the phone up to her ear, Fred's eyes shot up to me, along with Wesley and Cordelia's. "They're after my _daughter_. I can _not_ let anything happen to her, so I'm going to go before this eclipse happens."

"Hold on, Buffy, just -" I rounded on Cordelia.

"Shut up, Cordy. Do none of you understand what's happening here? You guys just swoop in and tell me that my little girl might die tonight and then you want me to _hold on_ so you can figure out exactly how they're going to do it?" I bristled, my hands clenching into fists. "I don't care _how_! And I'm really not starting to care _why_! Now, I'm gonna go kill the hell out of some evil."

And I left, slamming the door behind me. A block away, I finally calmed down. Or at least enough to regret snapping at Cordelia like that. I was just so angry, so frustrated. For the past two days, we've done nothing but read and wait. I've been patrolling nearly non-stop, surveying every place I'd known to be a villain hideout. All to no avail. Not a whisper, not a rumor, nothing. Until that call from Giles.

I realized on my trek toward the cemetery that Willow's house was on the way. Although I shouldn't waste any time because it was already sunset, I wanted to stop. Just to see Angela. I'd hardly gotten to spend any time with her lately and I missed her. If I went now, I could make it before Angel arrived to take her home.

I arrived at the doorstep to see Willow and Xander's cars in the drive. She must've just gotten home from class and Xander might be visiting as well. He deserved a break from the endless research Giles had appointed him to do. I walked in the door, knocking as I went.

"Hello?" I called. "It's me!"

"Buffy!" Xander leaned around the corner of the dining room entrance, holding the phone. "I was just trying to get a hold of you, there's -"

"I know about the attack, Giles called Fred and the others."

"You _know_?" Xander gave me this look as if to say 'are you crazy?'

"Yeah, I was just on my way to Ever-rest," I explained. "I was stopping just to see Angela for a minute. Where is she?"

"Um," Xander's face darkened. "Maybe you should go upstairs. Willow's in the bedroom."

"What?" I turned to the stairs. I didn't like this at all. I climbed them, calling for Angela. Panic started to bubble in my chest when she didn't answer. I went into Willow and Tara's bedroom to find Willow sitting on the edge of their bed. Tara was lying there, her head in Willow's lap, asleep.

"Buffy," Willow said when she saw me. "Did Xander find you?"

"No, I was just passing through... What's going on?"

Tara muttered something indistinguishable, followed by a light moan. She twitched and Willow dropped her eyes, brushing Tara's hair back from her sweaty forehead.

"I – uh – I came home and Tara was unconscious on the floor. That was almost a half hour ago."

"Where's Angela?" Willow's moist eyes shot back up to me.

"I – I don't really know... We looked, but she's – she's gone. And Tara was attacked."

"Attacked?" Willow pulled Tara's hair back, exposing two small puncture wounds on her neck. My jaw clenched – _this_ was the attack Xander was meaning.

"But it couldn't have been Sasha or Miroslav," I said, halfway thinking out loud. "Tara wouldn't invite them in."

"No," Willow sighed. "It wasn't them."

The way Willow said it, guiltily, let me know that she knew something more that she wasn't telling me.

"Will? You know who did it?" I shook her shoulder because she refused to look back at me. She bit her lip and seemed to be forcing back tears. "_Tell_ me!"

Tara stirred, mumbling again. Willow patted her cheek as Tara's eyelids fluttered. She took a breath and said softly, but clearly: "Angel... came... he -"

I took a step back. My throat seemed to close. Xander bounded into the room at that moment, obviously full of news but at the tension in the room, shut his mouth. Willow didn't seemed to be shocked or surprised by what Tara had whispered. She only wiped at the tear rolling down her cheek.

"_Angel_?" I echoed. "But he couldn't – he's not a vampire, Will."

"He _wasn't_," Willow answered, turning apologetic eyes to me. "But there's no one else who Tara would let into our house... especially when we're supposed to be protecting Angie."

"No," I shook my head. "It's not possible."

"I called Anya. She said that Angel hadn't been to work at all today or yesterday," Xander added, apparently backing Willow's theory. "She told me that she didn't mention it because she assumed he was busy helping you patrol and the others with research. Damn it, she chose _this_ of all times to be sensitive."

"I don't know how," Willow said. "Miroslav must've gotten a hold of him behind our backs. We've all been in different directions these past couple of days..."

"Yeah, it probably wasn't that hard to single him out," Xander agreed.

"Stop," I said softly. I was staring at the floor, unsure whether to absorb this information or reject it. I felt cold from the inside out. It was like experiencing a system overload; my body began trembling. Angel – _turned_? Right when we were so close to saving Angela, to going back to everyday things.

"We have to do something, Buffy," Xander pressed, even as Willow shook her head violently at him. "If he's got Angie then there's no -"

"Shut up, Xander!"

I bit my lip as soon as the words were out of my mouth. I felt the press of the wall behind me and that sensation of being trapped. Xander looked shocked by my outburst, but he closed his mouth. Tara's head turned in Willow's lap, looking up at us, more aware than before. I could not feel relieved for her just yet; too many other things were pressing in on me.

"I know – all right?" I breathed and rolled back my shoulders. I had to find some solidarity here or else I was afraid I would just shrivel up and die. "I – I have to find them."

"But - " Willow gulped, pausing her question for a second. "What if you – I mean, what if you _do_?"

I looked down at the floor. It had been nine long years since I had been forced to face him – the vampire my lover became when his soul was gone. I still harbored some hope that this was all a mistake, a misunderstanding. That Angel couldn't have been killed. But it was my duty, my calling, to expect the worse.

"I'm still the Slayer," I said, lifting my head again. I turned toward the door and Xander stepped back to let me through.

"Wait!" Willow called. "We – we can figure something out, Buffy. Don't -"

"No, Will," I said, over my shoulder. "We're out of time."

I froze in front of the steps to my home. The door was ajar. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and threw myself forward. It was dark inside, giving the illusion that no one was home. I quelled the urge to fly around the house, yelling for my daughter. I had to be smart about this, smarter than _him_. I shut the door behind me, letting it close loudly.

"Angel?" I called out, watching the shadows carefully. I wasn't sure yet if he'd been alone, or if there might be others. For all I knew, he was dead and Miroslav was waiting to capture me. I couldn't let that happen. A lamp flicked on in the living room, startling me only for a moment. I walked in, taking slow, cautious steps. Angel was standing with his back to me, holding something.

"Buffy?" The sound of his voice almost broke me. I lifted my hand, almost reaching out to him, "Angel, I'm here."

I think I truly wanted to believe that Angel was safe, that nothing could ever happen to him. For years, he had been a staple in my life. Always strong, brave, intelligent. Always swooping in to help me at the last minute. Our history had been dark at times, but we always came through in the end. Our love had survived a lost soul, a hell dimension, a forgotten memory, even my death. Somehow, he always came back to me. There was no reason for me to believe that this time was any different.

"You're late," he said, turning to face me. I inhaled sharply when I saw what he held in his hands. Angela's bear. I looked him in the eyes, searching for an answer. Those once beautifully soulful brown eyes were now glazed over – empty, vacant. "I've been waiting a long time for you, Buffy."

"No," I whispered, my lips trembling as I fought back tears. This could _not_ be happening. This was just a nightmare and I would wake up soon. Angel took one step toward me, the bear rotating in his hands until its stuffed face was turned to me. His hand gripped it by the throat. I saw the ghost of a smirk of Angel's lips and my heart sank. I _was_ too late.

"Angelus." I murmured and watched as humor and pride filled his eyes. My husband was gone and what stood before me was his old demon come back to life. The tears burned my throat, but I couldn't let him see that weakness. I couldn't let him get to me like that.

"Good to know that _you_ still know me," he said, grinning. "I was beginning to feel left behind. Of course, that witch had heard of me, but we'd never been introduced before. I remembered my manners, don't worry. And then Angela. We should be proud, she's _so_ beautiful. So trusting."

"Where is she?" I tried to tune out most of what he said. "What did you do to her?"

"Me? Nothing." Angel kept his grin as he brushed his cheek against the fur of her bear. "I can't say the same for Miroslav."

I wanted to ask why. I felt the plead bubble up inside of me, but I couldn't let myself sink that low. I had to be strong for Angela. "When?"

"Midnight," Angel answered. He tossed the bear away but his eyes never strayed from me. "You'll never make it in time."

"I will." I reached behind me and let the stake fall into my hand. He saw my movement and he feigned hurt.

"You want to fight me?" He pouted. "What about those vows we took? Didn't they mean anything to you?"

"Just one," I said, steeling myself. He took in a great, false breath and narrowed his eyes.

" 'Until death do we part'?"

"Angel _is_ dead."

He flew at me, but I was ready. I deflected his blow, kicking him back. I advanced, throwing a left hook into his jaw. He staggered backward and dodged my other swing. Then he grabbed my arm and used my momentum to throw me into the wall. I dropped to the floor to avoid his fist and tripped him up.

"Tick, tock, Buffy," he jeered after he rolled away and got back to his feet.

I stood, ignoring him. I lunged at him and grabbed his arm before he could swing at me again. But he twisted and slammed his knee into my stomach. The air rushed out of me and I couldn't recover fast enough to keep from faltering when his elbow came down on my spine. I let go of my stake and heard it clatter on the floor. He pushed me back and I straightened.

Time _was_ wasting away, however. I had to be better than this. But he was keeping his distance from me. Every time I advanced, he countered. And even when he had me in a position close to attack, he merely threw me back. I got the sense that he was only buying time, trying to keep me busy. He didn't change into the vampire features either, which confirmed my suspicions.

This meant I had to catch him off-guard. I dodged and feinted, trying to locate a weak spot. I let him cast me around the living room for a while until I saw it. He was leaving his right side open. When he aimed a punch at me, I ducked and pounded my fist into his rib. He doubled over and I was able to uppercut him.

As he stepped away, stunned, I knew that this was it. I was going to win. I shifted my weight back and planted a kick to his midsection. His back hit the corner of doorway and I had him pinned. I dashed forward, scooping the stake into my hand. He was just reopening his eyes when I was on top of him.

"For my daughter," I said, raising my arm. I sunk the stake deep into his chest, piercing through skin and flesh and muscle.


	24. Savior

**Disclaimer: **Don't own, not for profit.

**Author's Note: **Did you enjoy the cliffhanger? Hope so! Here follows the rest. Read and review!

* * *

I waited for Angel to dissolve into dust. I don't know how long I stood there, staring. It wasn't until his expression changed that I knew something was wrong. He lifted his eyes to mine and they were moist. The emptiness vanished and was replaced with a look of distress. My hand felt hot and wet, and I lowered my gaze to it. Under my grip on the stake lodged in his chest, blood was quickly seeping, soaking his shirt.

"B- Buffy," Angel coughed out, his shoulders slumping. He swayed, losing his balance. I let go of the stake to catch his arm. I sunk to the floor with him, gasping in a breath as he groaned with pain.

"Angel, oh my God. Angel," I felt the tears finally slipping out from behind my eyes. I touched the stake and his eyes widened. He cried out as I ripped it out of his body. I let it fall to the floor, quickly covering the wound with my hands. His heart was still beating, but it was slow, much too slow.

"You... have to go," he said while I applied pressure. I couldn't believe this, but I knew then what happened. It was Mishka. It _had_ to be. She was controlling him, to keep me distracted. Angel turned his head to me, his eyebrows drawn as if he was wondering why I was even here. I shook my head, sniffing. "Too late..."

"No, no. You're going to – I'm gonna save you, Angel."

"Buffy -" he paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "I'm dying."

"No!" I cried, emotion overwhelming me. My vision blurred with an onslaught of tears and I began to sob. I leaned closer to him, kissing his forehead. His skin was sweaty and cool and I noticed he was paling. "You – you just have to hold on, honey, hold on. I'll get help -"

"No." He raised his arms and struggled to push my hands away from his wound. He laced the fingers of one hand with mine, squeezing.

"You can't die!" I uttered. I put my other arm underneath his head, cradling him. In the back of my mind, I knew what I was saying was useless. A stake to the heart was fatal, vampire or not. "I – I'm so sorry."

"Shh. It's - " Angel wheezed again and tried to strengthen his shallow breathing. I watched in horror and in despair. He looked at me again, determination in his eyes but with a plea in his voice. "You have to save my girl - Angie. There's... no time..."

"I will," I said, hugging him closer. He tilted his head back, and I kissed him. Our quivering mouths moved against each other's until I felt him tense. I pulled back so he could breathe and I saw my tears on his cheeks.

"Don't give up," he told me. I shook my head with a promise and kissed him again quickly. He sighed, his voice lowered to a whisper. "I love you. For – forever."

"Forever yours," I murmured, nodding and trying to curl my lips into a smile for once. I pressed my cheek to his forehead, shutting my eyes and willed myself not to cry anymore. The pressure of our interlocked fingers released. I felt his chest sink as he exhaled, and he relaxed in my arms. I held him for a moment longer until I could find the strength to draw back.

"I love you, Angel, so much," I whispered before pulling back. His eyes were still open, staring upward. I laid him down gently on the floor and untangled my hand from his. I looked into his expired eyes, still as beautiful as ever and then I closed them.

Before I could swell up with a fresh wave of sorrow, the front door crashed open. I looked to the entryway and saw Willow scramble in, followed by Wesley, Xander and Giles.

"Buffy!" She said. "It wasn't -"

She fell short, seeing Angel lying on the floor in front of me. The rest of them froze in their tracks as well. I stood up slowly, glancing at the blood drying on my hands.

"We're too late," Giles muttered, possibly to himself as he stared at the body on the floor.

"I killed him," I admitted, mostly just to hear myself say it. It cut more deeply than I imagined, to feel those words pass through my lips. Because there wasn't a stone demon where a portal used to be. There wasn't dust on my clothes. Neither my stake nor my conscience was clean.

"Oh god, Buffy," Willow said, looking at me with a mixed expression of pain and sympathy. "I don't know what... I'm so sorry. Tara, she was too weak to explain – but it was Sasha. Angel came to help her."

"We've figured out the _skorost_ _lico_," Wesley said. "It's a ritual of transformation. To _become_."

"Mishka came to the house," Willow further explained. "Tara thought it was you. She – she had to have had a spell on Angel."

"I know," I murmured and walked over to a shelf. I felt around on the top until I found the key to the weapons chest. Angel and I kept it hidden from Angela. "Mishka. She wanted to look like me so that Angela would go with her."

"Yes," Giles said, watching me as I unlocked the chest and pulled out a heavy short axe.

"How long until the ritual wears out?"

"It's indefinite," Wesley said, frowning. "She can be you forever."

"No," I flexed my grip on the handle of the axe and looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 11:38, I had twenty-two minutes. "I'm going to kill her."

"Buffy -" Giles started, but I stepped up to him, cutting him off.

"If you're going to tell me to hold on, I'll kill you too."

"Buffy, what?" Xander called for my attention, confused by my coldness. They had obviously expected to find me broken. I decided to let them in a little. I pointed to Angel.

"The only man I've ever loved is gone," I spoke clearly. "His only dying wish was that I save his little girl."

"Of course," Giles whispered. In his eyes, I know that he understood. He always understood my hardest decisions, my worse mistakes. "You have to hurry."

"We're with you," Xander said and Willow nodded, backing him up.

"Gunn, Fred and Cordelia are already headed to the cemetery," Wesley said. I looked at Giles, waiting for his answer. He looked back at me and shook his head.

"I'll stay here... with Angel."

I wanted to thank him – to say how much I appreciated even that small gesture, but I couldn't. After, I told myself as I turned and walked out my front door with Xander, Willow and Wesley at my heels.

I don't know how things fell apart so easily. I'll never understand how – after all that I'd been through – one master vampire destroyed my life. He had been the director of my pain for so long now. Interrupting what new bliss Angel and I had. Nearly killing my baby in the womb and leaving me in fear for her life. Making me murder the first true love of my life and now he held my second love in the palm of his hand. Always just one step ahead.

Tonight, it would end. My knuckles were white on the handle of my axe as I crossed the graveyard. I felt resolution building up inside of me, casting a shadow over the anger I felt. I was the Slayer and I would not be broken so easily.

"This is it," Cordelia informed us as we met her and Fred in the middle of the cemetery. I raised a brow, taking a quick look around – there was nothing here. I was about to ask her exactly what _this_ was when she reached her hand out in front of her and touched something invisible that rippled like water. "But there's something blocking it."

"It's a magical barrier," Willow said, stepping forward. She looked at the empty space, inspecting it carefully. "It's strong."

"Can you break it?" I asked. She didn't answer. Instead, she lifted her hands to the barrier. Her palms curled into fists and she spoke strongly, "_Diffringo!_"

The barrier didn't respond. Though we could clearly see the rest of the cemetery behind it, we could not walk through. However, Willow didn't give up. She dropped her hands back to her sides and leaned closer to the space, murmuring, "_Da mihi colour, da mihi, revelare tuum secretum._"

"It's not a wall, it's hiding something," Willow said as the invisible thing reflected a soft gray light. She raised her hands again, this time her palms to the barrier and raised them above her head.

"_Deturbo,_" She said and slowly brought her hands to the ground. The barrier rippled again and fell away, revealing a mausoleum behind it.

"Well done, Willow," Wesley praised, impressed. Xander clapped her on the shoulders and she grinned appreciatively. I slid around Willow, moving through the now visible doorway. Several feet ahead on the floor was a hole. It was dark and I couldn't tell how deep it was.

"I guess I'll go first," I said, peering into the darkness. "And I'll let you guys know if it's safe."

"Wait, Buffy!" I heard Fred's voice say. I turned to see her holding an old torch. "You got a light?"

"Here," Wesley said, producing a lighter. It took a couple of tries but the torch finally lit. Fred leaned over the hole and dropped the torch into it. A second later, we heard the thud and saw the light at the bottom.

"Can't be more than ten feet," Fred said. I smiled faintly, appreciating her resourcefulness. I knelt down and lowered myself down. I let go of the ledge and landed easily on the bottom. I picked up the torch and held it for the others as they dropped in. Xander and Wesley, the tallest of us, had to bend down to fit under the roof. It was a passage, caves.

"Follow me," Cordelia said, her hand grazing the cave wall as she went forward. We followed in a straight line as the passage narrowed. She stopped when our way ended into a larger cave. I set the torch down on the ground as she signaled me to do so.

"They're close," she whispered and I could see light flickering softly from the left. I moved to the other wall so that the others could come closer.

"Xander, Willow, you guys handle Sasha. Wesley and Cordelia, take Mishka. Kill her if you have to. Fred, get to Angela and get her out. Leave Miroslav to me."

I squeezed past Cordelia, taking the lead. I kept close to the cavern wall as we moved toward the light. I paused at a rough opening to make sure that everyone was in place. When they all nodded, I went through.

"Mommy!" Angela's shrill cry alerted our enemies to our arrival. She was at the far wall, restrained by Miroslav. The cave was even larger here and there was no roof. The sky above was impossibly dark, the moon eclipsed. The vampire Sasha charged at us and Willow and Xander rushed forward to meet him.

I ran across the ground, splashing through a shallow pool, my eyes set on Miroslav and my daughter. They must have begun their preparations because I could see those cryptic marks on Angela's face. From behind me, Wesley shouted my name, warning me. But the blow came from my blind side. I skittered across the ground, looking around wildly.

"Slayer," my own face cracked a smile. "We meet again."

It was Mishka. It was unnerving to see myself so perfectly replicated. Even her voice was exactly the same as mine. No one could have blamed Tara now, _anyone_ would think that she was me. I was distracted by the sound of Angela screaming. I turned my head to see Miroslav holding Angela inside of a pentagram. Her wrists were cut and her blood was dripping onto the the symbol.

I got to my feet as Wesley and Cordelia ambushed Mishka. She dodged them, and I didn't have time to warn Wesley about the knife she held. I watched as she buried it into his stomach. Cordelia was more effective at first, managing to get a couple of hits in before Mishka kicked her hard enough to knock her out. Then she rounded back onto me.

"I had hoped that you would spare Angelus," she said, slinking toward me. "Miroslav would have enjoyed bringing him back into the fold."

I lunged at her, swinging my axe. She caught my arm and twisted it and quickly followed up with a blow to my gut. I coughed, suddenly becoming aware of what was happening. She didn't just _look_ like me, she had my strength as well. She had - as Wesley said before – _become_ me.

"You cannot win, Buffy," she sneered, twisting my arm so hard that my muscles refused to hold onto the axe any longer. I stole a glance toward the back wall and saw Angela crying, but straining against Miroslav's hold. I leaned back and kicked out at Mishka, pushing her away from me. She let go, but maintained her balance. The joy on her face sickened me as she flexed her arms and said, "I _love_ this new body."

"That's mine!" I growled and dove at her. I knocked her to the ground and we rolled for a moment, each trying to gain the upper-hand. I heard Fred race to the back and before I could yell for her to stop, Miroslav attacked. She didn't have the reflexes to miss his backhand and it threw her face forward into the wall. She slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"You should be honored," Mishka said before planting her fist in my face. Dazed, I rolled over and let her pin me. Her knee pressed into my spine painfully as her hands gripped my arms.

"Mommy! Please! Mommy!" Angela screamed. I was able to see her. I saw all the pain and fear in her face. She stretched toward me, fighting against Miroslav's much stronger grasp. My heart pounded in my chest. Everything I felt was reflected onto my daughter's face and I was so very afraid that this would be the last time I ever saw that face that I treasured above all others.

"You will be the mother of one of the darkest creatures to walk the earth," Mishka continued. "A natural-born Slayer who opened the Hellmouth, turned to a child of darkness. And what magic I will teach her! The underworld shall worship her."

I watched bitterly as every drop of my Angela's precious blood meant another second was lost. There was a rumble from below, trembling the ground I laid on. Miroslav's cold eyes turned to mine, filled with victory, knowing that he had conquered me.

"It is over," He said, in that dark and deep tone that I'd come to despise. "Surrender now and you will be spared."

"He shows you mercy because you are _weak_, Buffy," Mishka hissed in my ear. "Always so weak."

Something in me snapped in that moment. I was staring into Angela's eyes. Eyes that were just like mine. She was just like me, more so than Mishka could ever be. She was a part of me. She had no concept of inevitability or hopelessness or what it meant to give up. And it wasn't because she was young or naïve, it was because of us – her parents, Angel and I. In her heart, she knew that we would never stop fighting for her, so it came naturally that she would never stop fighting.

Even as every second that passed meant her doom. Every drop of blood awoke the hell beneath us. In spite of it, she called for me. The axe wasn't far from me. I was sure that I was going to save her. I threw my head back, colliding with Mishka's and catching her off guard. Her clutch on me relaxed just enough to let me stretch out and grab the axe. I flipped, pushing the blade into her chest.

A mighty cry echoed in the chamber as she fell to the floor beside me. My face faded before me and she was changed back to her former self but ultimately dead. I pushed myself to my feet and met Miroslav's struck face. It never occurred to me before that Miroslav actually cared for his gypsy girl. But he did enough to seek revenge. He lifted Angela off her feet and his face morphed into the demon.

I don't remember Willow and Xander screaming behind me, or the fact that they were running behind me as I raced toward Miroslav. I don't remember the ground ending its shuddering. I don't remember how pale light streamed down on us as the moon came back.

All I remember was watching Miroslav bare his fangs. The sound of my daughter's last unearthly cry as he ripped her throat out. Nothing else registered in my memory. I don't think I could have survived anything else. No matter what, I could never forget that sight. And she never stopped calling for me.

Because I was the one who gave birth to her. I was the one who had nursed her. The one who sang her lullabies. The one held her hand to cross the street. The one who kissed her scraped knees. The one who chased away the monsters under the bed. The one who kissed her after she'd had a nightmare. The one who taught her not to fear the dark. Because I was her mother... her savior.


End file.
